Identity
by crazyrajat
Summary: The Game of Thrones takes a major turn when a mysterious individual with an acute case of amnesia stumble's into the King's Landing during one of its darkest times. Discover as the person tries to unravel his mysterious past leading to a journey of self-discovery and inner strength.
1. Chapter 1

**This chapter has been beta'd by CruelRuin**

 **Chapter - 1**

King's Landing.

A city built on blood, tears, and poisoned lies. A city that had withstood not one, but two great wars, and still stood strong. The city that housed the great throne of Iron. Forged from the swords of those who fell in battle. Licked by the flames of wyrmkind, and fashioned into a seat that all coveted, but few possessed the will to achieve. A city, that this day, would see the birth of a new emperor. Would witness the bloody beginning of a new regime, and would burn in the flames of a war soon to end in a victory so pyrrhic, many would call it madness.

It was truly a sad day, when the reason for this madness was none other than the very King and his Court.

The man who sat on the Iron Throne had the responsibility to take care of the wellbeing of all the people in the Seven Kingdoms. From the Lords to the common folk were his responsibility and his decree. In this way, the throne was almost sacred in its nature, and just like anything sacred, a lot of blood had been spilled over it over the centuries.

But never had it been done in such a brutal and stomach-churning way. Everything the great Targaryens built amounted to this, just a worthless pile of piss and shit. Aegon Targaryen must be turning in his grave to see his beloved city, his crown jewel, reduced to this…

Distinct wailing of women and children could be heard across the city. It didn't take a Maester to realize that almost every woman in King's landing were being forced into doing unspeakable things. Innocent children were being murdered right in front of their mothers, while they themselves were forcefully claimed taken by men, turned into beasts by the fuel of conquest.

This was truly the sacking of King's Landing. And to think something this horrific occurred over a single woman. The great city was brought to its very knees over a damned woman. If the consequences weren't so dire, then the situation would've been comedic rather than tragic. Women who held no power in their totalitarian society brought almost a three hundred old regime to its end. It was seemingly hilarious… as long as you weren't on the receiving end of it.

Some would say the beginning for this nightmare-given-life was when Rhaegar Targareyn crowned Lyanna Stark 'Queen of Love and Beauty'. While others would simply say it was because men like Rhaegar Targaryen and Robert Baratheon simply couldn't keep their dick in their pants. Whatever the reason was, it was the realm that suffered. Lacerated by the prongs of war. Stranded, and left to rot.

It's true what they say. women bring out both the best and the worst in men. And this, this, was definitely the worst.

* * *

Elia Martell, wife of Rhaegar Targaryen cursed her husband to the high heavens with her very being. Thanks to him, she was forced to stay in the Red Keep by her own father-in-law, Aerys Targaryen. He gave the banal reason her confinement to the castle was all a byproduct of her pregnancy. But anyone with half a brain knew the real reason behind her seemingly-innocuous imprisonment.

It was done with the explicit purpose to prevent Dorne from rebelling against the King in the war, to gain their absolute loyalty. For someone who had the moniker of 'Mad King', he surely made a calculative and cold-blooded decision when it came to her family. After all she _was_ the only princess of Dorne. Her brothers would never risk the wrath of the 'Mad King' when she could be put into such mortal danger by their rebellious actions.

It wasn't meant to end like this, Elia raged in her mind. She was meant to be the Queen of Westeros, ruling the Seven Kingdoms alongside her husband. But now she was reduced to nothing more than a political hostage, a pawn to be used by the Targaryens as they saw fit. _How depressing._ She mused, her downcast eyes dulling her prideful visage.

Making it worse, her dreams were crushed by her own husband. Her _'supposed beloved'_ who should have been there for her all the way had left her for Lyanna Stark without a second though, Inciting this ridiculous war. It was bearable, after all they didn't marry out of love Their union was merely political. But he didn't just leave her, he also discarded his own children to a fate so undetermined, as if they were nothing more than bastards. She would never forgive him for that. Never! Not in this life or the next!

She had given birth to little Rhaenys and Aegon for him at a very personal cost. The birth of Aegon had wrecked her body leaving it weak and frail. Grand maester Pycelle diagnosed that she would never give birth again. The thought almost broke her heart. He said that if she ever got pregnant again, the fetus would kill her before it even came into this world.

She was reduced to a weak woman not just mentally, but also physically; just thinking about it made her jaw clench and her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. She hated feeling weak. She had felt weak the day she was born, and that feeling had never truly gone away. She always lacked the strength to do even the simplest of tasks. Her brother said it was because she was born prematurely, nevertheless that only served to make her incrementally furious. _'Was all this worth it, Rhaegar?'_ she couldn't help but ask herself.

Her eardrums hurt as she listened to the furious, yet sharp clangs of clashing steel beneath the expansive halls of Red Keep. They were coming for her children, she knew that. Maybe to use them as hostages or to simply kill them. She couldn't allow either of those things to happen. Not even over her dead body. The footsteps drew closer, each thud raising the terror she felt incrementally.

' _I have to keep Rhaenys safe!'_ Elia thought frantically, steeling her resolve. She would be damned if she let anything happen to her baby girl.

"Rhaenys! Get under the bed right now!" Elia screamed, her desperation evident. Before her daughter could even mutter a word, she was shoved under the bed by her frantic and fearful mother.

Elia rushed to the doors of her chambers, intending to close them as tight as possible. She feared the worst. If someone managed to get inside her chambers, if something were to happen to Rhaegar, his children and her would become even more of a target than before. She simply couldn't, wouldn't, allow that to happen.

Just as she slammed the last bolt, the entire door shook violently. Half of the bolts which she had closed mere moments ago broke from their very hinges, like they were made of glass instead of thick, dense metal. Elia refused to budge easily, giving everything she had in her tiny body and she push back hard.

' _Please go away…!'_ Elia Martell pleaded to the heavens through strained breaths, hoping that the Seven would hear her plea. But it was simply not meant to be. With a last, forceful push, the door split into two, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere.

The impact made Elia Martell lose her footing as she went flying, some of the wooden splinters managed to pierce her abdomen and her arms eliciting a pained scream. Tears started to stream down her eyes as blood began to stain her gown. She teared up in her agony.

"Look what we have here!" A mocking voice made his presence known. A man entered, wearing the armor donned by common infantry. He was portly and had a pale piggy face with scrutinizing eyes, radiating unchecked menace. "If it isn't the beautiful, helpless princess of Dorne!" he mocked, displaying his grotesque, yellowing teeth.

Elia took a good look at the man and resisted her urge to vomit. He was staring at her with such unrestrained lust that it immediately made her feel dirty. She had heard about this man before, albeit in a third hand manner from the tales shared by her handmaidens. This man was none other than Amory Lorch. She refused to show her fear and give this bastard any satisfaction. She would endure, like she had always done.

But even she could not help but visibly shudder when a second figure slowly made his way into her chambers, ducking to make it possible for his gigantic frame to make it through. His every step seemed to shake the very earth. The man was huge, even by the standards of the tallest northerner she had ever seen; eight feet of pure grit and muscle. To make matters even worse, the man wore armor as thick as a dragon's hide to over the entirety of his being. He looked more akin to a giant than a man.

Everyone in Westeros knew who this man was. The infamous 'Mountain who rides'. Ser Gregor Clegane. A man knighted by her very own husband. Even though he had raped and killed on his way to becoming a knight. He was an infamous, cruel and sadistic individual. No one dared to cross the path which he rode on.

This man now strode towards Elia at a leisurely pace. His long steps making up for the differential in speed. She tried to back away from him, a whimper escaping her tightly-sealed lips. But her feeble and injured body was simply incapable of putting up with such a strain. However, she held no illusions of getting away if she was uninjured. No matter what people thought of the Mountain, one thing that didn't change was that the man knew how to hunt and fight. He practically lived for it!

The giant Clegane lifted her off her feet like a ragdoll, pulling her roughly from the back of her neck. He closed the distance between their faces and gave her a long, dirty stare. His hands started to languorously roam under her gown, squeezing her breasts in a rough gesture meant purely for his sadistic satisfaction. She felt his putrid breath over her neck and shivered in despair.

Elia gave out a cry, proclaiming to the world her desperation and dismay. She didn't want to be taken by this beast. She could still feel the fear radiating from her child. She had an inkling of what was in store for her children when they were done with her. And it wasn't the comparatively kinder fate of a hostage. Else, it wouldn't be the Mountain who would have made his way to her.

' _I don't want anything, just save my baby girl!'_ Elia screamed out to both the new and the old Gods. For the second time in a span of few minutes, she pleaded.

But they didn't answer to her prayers, they never had, and they never would.

Amory Lorch continued to watch, his lecherous eyes roaming over the women's body as she was molested by the hulking man. He was about to join the fun the Mountain was partaking in when he heard a shrill, squeaking sound. Specifically, the sound of someone young, whimpering. It was the voice of a child, coming from under the bed.

He had been ordered by his liege lord 'Tywin Lannister' to kill all the royal children. He didn't know the reason behind it nor did he bother to ask them, but he was going to do it anyways. With that thought in mind Amory rushed under the bed and pulled Rhaenys Targaryen from her hiding place roughly. The little girl couldn't help but squeal because of the pain.

Elia watched helplessly as her daughter was dragged around. Her horror mounted when Lorch took out his sword and swung at her child. "Nooooo!" a scream tore itself out from her throat even as she was molested, which earned her a ringing slap to her face, courtesy the Mountain. She tried to run towards her daughter but was caught by the giant once again as he started to tear at her clothes. Elia didn't care, she only watched in terror as the sword descended slowly towards her daughter. It would take only one strike to kill her, and she could do nothing to stop it.

"That's enough!"

An authoritative voice echoed in the confines of Elia Martell's chambers. Forcing both the Mountain and Amory to stop in their tracks and face the guy who had the sheer gall to stop them. The little girl, during the brief moment, managed to scramble off to her mother, who was now hugging her for what she was worth.

"Fuck off from here you little runt and I'll think twice about smashing your puny head in." For the first time, the Mountain spoke. His voice gruff and enraged. The Mountain wasn't just pissed. No sir, he was _beyond_ pissed. His fun time was interrupted by a man who looked no older than twenty name days.

Elia looked towards the man who stopped her child from being stabbed and she felt her hope plummet faster than a falling rock. He looked as if he should be at a play or drama. He didn't have the bearing or build of a warrior at all, he looked flaky at best, with his bright blond hair and thin and wiry body which donned baggy shirt and trousers. At first, she would have thought him to be a Lannister, but she quickly crushed that notion when she saw his bright azure blue eyes. That wasn't a Lannister trait. And no Lannister would ever try to save her. They hated her since the very day they were spurned over Queenship by Aerys.

Whoever the man was, he might have delayed the inevitable for the moment. But there was not a way in seven hells he would be able to defeat a brute like the Mountain, or even Lorch for that matter. He looked feminine, nothing like a warrior should be! She could even see him shaking.

Fear returned to Elia with a vengeance.

* * *

Veekeris had arrived in Westeros only few months ago, and in a very unnatural way. That was the easiest way to explain his entire situation. He woke up on the deck of a ship with no memories whatsoever. He didn't know who he was, what he did, nothing. He didn't even remember his own name.

When the captain of the ship finally saw him awake, he told him that they found him in the Blackwater Bay in the middle of a maelstrom, one which almost managed to drown them. Then the man asked him his name and he immediately panicked. It was the most jarring moment of his life, and that was exacerbated by the fact that his loss of memories made it practically the first.

After a few minutes of disbelief, both from the crew and captain, the Captain was finally convinced that his claims were true when he realized that the young man didn't even know about Westeros or Essos. Or any other continent for that matter.

The captain was the one who was kind enough to give him his new name 'Veekeris'. According to the captain, it meant Maelstrom in an ancient and forgotten tongue. The Captain thought that it suited his personality and his unique situation, and he couldn't help but agree with him. His life was a mess.

Since then, Veekeris had decided to travel to every place known to man beneath the sky, so that he could hopefully find out who he was. Did he have a family? Did he have children? He had so many questions and he didn't have answers to a single one of them. He wanted to know his identity above everything. The first place he decided to visit was King's Landing, mostly because that was where the ship was heading. He didn't really have much of a choice, really. But according to the captain, if you couldn't find something in flea bottom, you can't find it anywhere else.

With that goal in mind, he finally landed at Kings Landing after a month of grueling and back-breaking sailing, and for a moment, it was almost worth it. It was a bustling place with trade and commerce everywhere. You could find almost anything in this place, from whorehouses to top-rate restaurants. But the stench of piss and shit made enjoyment almost impossible. It also didn't help that he could sense deep-seated unease, fear, anger and borderline almost every other negative emotion under the sun from the entire city. He didn't know how, but he could just feel it. He was able to feel the pain people felt, the cravings of lust, the restlessness of anger and everything else. It almost made him want to hurl.

He had already walked in to the middle of the city when he saw a large fortress on the top of a hill. He started making his way towards it because of his inherent curiosity and he hoped someone would remember him if he continued roaming the city. It was a naïve wish, but he was desperate.

As soon as he reached the Red Keep, everything went to hell. He saw people killing each other like it was the natural thing to do. When he looked down the hill, it almost broke his heart. He saw the entire city on fire, mere minutes after he had gotten out of it. what more, He was brought down to his knees when a literal wave of negative emotions slammed into him, ranging from desperation, helplessness and a plethora of others. He wanted to vomit right there and then, though he somehow managed to keep his meal down.

He rushed towards the Keep. It was the safest place in King's Landing right now. It was a fortress, and by virtue of being one, could not be penetrated easily. By God's grace, he somehow managed to sneak himself inside the fortress without alerting the guards. It might have been because of the utter chaos in the Keep right now, but it felt as if he had done this before. It felt as if he was born and brought up to sneak into places where no one could reach. It felt as if he was born to live in the shadows. This was the first time he had felt such a sense of familiarity. He didn't know whether he should cherish it or fear it.

He managed to hide himself in a large and ornately decorated room within minutes, when he saw two strangers had managed to break in just like him. One of the men was a portly guy and the other, a hulking eight-foot behemoth of pure muscle. Veekeris gulped and his eyes grew wide as saucers. What the hell did they feed that guy?

He watched with trepidation as the giant sycophant molested the woman while the other person was just watching the entire thing with a crazed smile filled with lust and malice. Veekeris was filled with disgust and hate when he finally managed to figure the things these two monsters were about to do to the defenseless woman. He didn't need to sense their emotions to know the atrocities they were about to commit.

He went apoplectic when he saw the portly men made his way under the bed and pulled a small child out and then was shameless enough to bring his sword in a striking pose to slice the child up.

There was only so muchVeekeris could take. He screamed out "That's enough!" at the top of his voice as he bolted out of his hiding place. He might not know his name but he knew one thing beyond a shadow ofdoubt that he would never be able to sleep at night if he let this continue.

* * *

"Fuck off from here you little runt and I'll think twice about smashing your puny head in." Veekeris heard the giant speak for the first time. He directed a look towards the woman and child, just to see whether they were fine or not. The woman looked a little roughed-up, a bruise forming on her cheek from the earlier slap. But what startled him more was just how frail and delicate she looked right now, perhaps she was ill. Then he turned his gaze towards the little girl; she was shaking like a leaf, and was hugging her mother for all she was worth.

He shook in anger. He knew that he should be scared as well, since he had no memorable form of training, nor did he have amazing strength, but there wasn't a way in hell that he was going to let these two jocks have their way with a woman and kill a child right in front of him.

"It's you two who need to get out of here." Veekeris stated while gritting his teeth. He somehow managed to find the necessary strength of will to glare at them.

The mountain snarled and rushed towards Veekeris in a sprint. It was intimidating to see an eight-foot-tall giant rush towards a person. Even worse when the said person was you. The ground shook, the ceiling creaked in abject strain, and felt as if a rhino was charging at him, not that a rhino was much more dangerous than a man with a sword as long as him.

Veekeris' heart started to pace. He was able to hear the blood flowing through his veins as his heart slowly beat. A bead of sweat rushed down from his forehead to his cheek. Then suddenly, the flow of time slowed, he was able to see the Mountain charge at him. He was able to see everything. He was able to see a mosquito flapping its wings at a distance, he was able to see the slight and minute flexes of muscles as the giant of a man charged at him. It was a sensory orgasm.

' _He is so slow.'_ Veekeris thought as the realization dawned on him.

In an instant, with the speed of wind, Veekeris ducked under the punch of the giant, and then he did something which had everyone in the room gaping at him due to the sheer incredulity, and the mere impossibility of his feat.

Veekeris lifted the giant, using the man's very own speed to throw him across the chamber. That day, the Mountain knew flight for one singular second before he hit his head on a tapestry and went down for the count. It only took one well-placed hit to bring the fearsome man down. It was comical at best.

Elia felt her jaw drop at what the feminine and flaky looking man did. One of the strongest knights in the entirety of Westeros was defeated like he was nothing more than a drunk brawler facing an experienced knight. and this was done by a peasant no less! Her musing was interrupted when she heard a roar from Amory.

"You little cunt! I am going to slice you up!" Ser Amory Lorch roared in a fit of rage as he charged at Veekeris with his sword drawn, fully intending to slice the man in front of him.

Veekeris simply side steeped and maneuvered himself inside his opponent's guard, striking him with a debilitating blow to his ribs. Amory gurgled and bile poured out of his mouth in spurts. He felt his armor dent as three of his ribs broke in a single punch. Elia cringed at the sounds of his bones snapping like twigs.

But the man didn't stop there, in a beautiful display of skill and speed he managed to disarm Amory in the flipside, grabbing Amory's sword and slashing though his torso multiple times within the span of a single second.

Amory Lorch just looked at him in disbelief and shock before he just simply crumpled like paper due to the extent of his injuries.

Veekeris himself was shocked beyond belief. _'How did I do that!?'_ he screamed out in his mind as he started taking in deep breaths. He had assumed that he wouldn't come out alive from this confrontation, but he had surprised himself. It felt as if he had done this before. As if he had done this countless times. The entire exchange had occurred before he even realized what he had even done. It was as if his body moved on its own to protect itself.

' _Who am I?'_ Veekeris couldn't help but question himself as he stared at his shaking hands.

However, he wasn't the only one who was having the same thoughts.

Elia was giving the mysterious guy a very hard look through her teary eyes, she had a feeling that starting today, everything had changed because of the one singular person standing right in front of her.

' _Who are you?'_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter – 2**

As usual I don't own anything.

 _ **I hope you enjoy this chapter... it took a lot out of me. It took ages for me to write it. This chapter was just difficult. This chapter was beta'd by LiterallyChallenged.**_

Veekeris turned to Elia lying on the floor, who was still wrapped in the tight embrace of her little Rhaenys who seemed lost for words after the events that took place. Elia found herself spell bound as Naruto reached out his hand to her, she flinched away in a reflexive response, her features tense with the anticipation of his next movement. Veekeris noticed the change in her countenance and retracted his hand. Instinctively, he bent down, crouching beside her on the floor trying to assuage a calmer response this time around. His blue eyes bore into her doe black eyes and he sighed, "Do you trust me?" As the question sunk into her mind, Veekeris could see the uncertainty on her face. She tried willing her mind into understanding what exactly had just happened.

 _You just beat the shit out of two monstrous men like they were stable boys, how the fuck should I trust you? You came out of nowhere!_ She thought frantically to herself.

Every fiber of her existence told her that this was a dangerous man, a man not to be meddled with, and all she knew in that moment was that her and her daughter's life were now in his hands and she was just as helpless as she was a moment ago. Choosing the most diplomatic response, she proceeded to bleakly nod her head in an assertive manner convincing herself that if she wanted to make it alive out of King's landing, then this man was her only shot.

But Veekeris could sense that something was off, that she was lying. For a second, he was reminded of that time in King's landing when he had this familiar feeling of consciousness of other people's emotions. His hands reached around to cup her cheeks and she recoiled from his touch, he immediately pulled his hands away, "Look, I know that you don't trust me. It was the wrong thing to ask. But right now, time is against us and I need you to work with me. Whoever you are, these people want you and your children dead. Any moment now, knights would march in and I can't help you if there doesn't exist even a semblance of trust. Right now, we need to work with each other, not against. Do you understand me?"

There was something about this man which struck her, his words were plain as day and she knew that he was right; she looked down into the eyes of her child which held terror in them and she knew what she had to do. Her jaw tensed and she scoffed through her clenched teeth, "For now. Yes."

Veekeris inwardly thought, _God, I saved this woman's life and this is the thanks I get._ But this coming from a frail woman who was almost raped just moments ago, her hardened gestures, and her tough, unrelenting response almost made her seem intimidating and he couldn't help but respect her for it.

His trail of thought was interrupted when he faintly felt the presence of company. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to concentrate and he could now hear the march of footsteps and the shrill vibrations from unsheathing of swords. His features tensed and he alarmed Elia, "In exactly 4 minutes 32 seconds, 19 knights will march through that door." He looked at the direction of the entry and added, "Well, what's left of the door. Do you have another exit?"

Elia was stupefied for a second because of the precision in the mysterious man's findings but she managed to get out of her stupor rather quick since if this blond man was right then they had no time to waste "No, there isn't, if there was one I would have already left this pace."

Veekeris frowned and started tapping the surrounding walls with his fist "It doesn't make sense, a castle like this must have several escape routes…" just then Vekkeris tapped behind a wall and it made a very distinct sound. A sound which is only made by hollow structures.

' _Bingo!'_ Veekeris thought victoriously.

He roamed his hands randomly across various bricks of that particular wall like a man possessed.

Elia was watching him with a raised eyebrow and was wondering whether the man had lost it finally when suddenly one of the hands of her savior pressed a brick like a button and a murky tunnel was revealed.

The said man looked at her with a smug expression while she was still trying to process what just happened. She just couldn't fathom that there was an escape route here all this time and she was still stuck here but on hindsight she should have known that a place which held the queen must have had a secret getaway. This tunnel must have been created during the time of the Aegon Targareyn's rule, the very first King who conquered all of the seven realms.

"Hurry! We don't have much time!" Veekeris hissed to get her attention.

Elia moved before he could even complete her sentence. She got up like a bullet and scooped Rhaenys under her arms and hurried towards the shady pathway.

Veekeris was momentarily surprised due to her sudden movement especially for an injured and frail looking woman. However he immediately followed her in a sprint after closing the secret gate right behind him.

Elis shielded her face from the cobwebs and insects that had made their home in the dusty tunnel. Clutching little Rhaenys in her arms, she ran for all that she had left in her body. Veekeris was a quick step behind her, lending a keen ear to hear for any approaching trouble.

They shuffled through the narrow pathway of the barely-lit tunnel, when Elia finally questioned, "Do you think this tunnel will lead us outside of King's Landing?" Veekeris inhaled sharply, almost like he was sniffing and replied," The other side of the tunnel lacks the distinct smell of the King's Landing. I could never forget that repulsive odor of shit and piss that disgusting place emanates. I'm pretty sure wherever this tunnel is headed, it's far away from the King's Landing."

' _He can smell it!? What kind of a man is he? Is he some sort of an animal?'_ Elia thought incredulously as she doubted this man's sanity and hers as well for following the ravings of this mad man.

Just as they advanced deeper into the tunnel, Elia could feel the exertion of running and her bleeding wounds caught up to her exhausted state of mind. She stumbled upon the floor battling her consciousness, as she fell onto her knees beside Rhaenys who exclaimed in shock, "Mummy! Get up!" as her tiny arms wrapped around her mother's figure who now lay unconscious on the floor, trying to carry her weight forward. But before she could do anything, she found that her mother had been lifted onto the back of the strange blonde guy that had saved them from the bad men earlier.

Just as Veekeris reached out to Rhaenys, she backed away from him, fear was clear in her eyes.

It almost broke Veekeris's heart to see an expression like that on such a young girl. He knew that he was basically new to this world but he couldn't help but feel that there was something really wrong with this world. Knights, Lords and Kings shouldn't be so ready to commit atrocities like that.

Everything about this world felt wrong. It felt as if the very nature was screaming at him for help. It felt as if he was able to feel the pain and helplessness of this world because of the constant conflict between its inhabitants; above all he felt as if the world was getting colder by every minute.

Veekeris gave a disarming smile to the child and spoke gently "Don't be afraid, I won't let anything harm you or your mother." Then he gave a massive grin and said resolutely "It's the promise of a lifetime!" As if the very forces of the God's won't be able to stop him.

Rhaenys perhaps for the first time in her life felt safe before somebody other than her mother. She rushed towards the crouched strangers and wrapped her arms around the crook of his neck.

The corner of his lips tugged upwards in a slight smile at this sweet gesture. He picked her up gently and dashed through the tunnel.

' _Time is of the essence'_ Veekeris thought grimly as he was running with the mother and daughter duo on his back and front respectively.

If Veekeris would have paid attention to the surroundings zipping around him then he would have had the same childish dumbfounded expression like Rhaenys. Since little Rhaenys was watching as the strange blonde man was running in speeds which even the fastest horses in Essos couldn't possibly match.

Elia woke up with a gasp, these days she always rose up because of a nightmare. She blamed such happenstance to war and the constant threat to her and her children's lives; the lack of support from her husband didn't help her predicament. She had been all alone when her husband decided to stupidly fall in love with another man's betrothed while he was still married to her. Just thinking about it made her heart ache not because she loved Rhaegar, it was because while doing this he had spat on her and her various sacrifices to him right in front of the entirety of Westeros during the Harrenhal Tourney.

Elia, after her minor monologue, started to search frantically for her daughter Rhaenys. She was all she had left now, her son Aegon was taken by Varys to Essos and she was sure that the eunuch had many plans for the baby boy and she won't be seeing him for a while if the eunuch had his way.

She noticed that she was in a dainty little inn, which had a small bed and some basic facilities like a toilet and mirror probably rented by her mysterious savior.

She didn't know what to think about him, the man had literally sprang out of nowhere and now she feared that she might have just exchanged one prison for other.

Before her thoughts could have taken the turn for the worse, she heard sounds of laughter, essentially the laughter of her Rhaenys.

It had been ages since she had heard the laughs of her little girl. Rhaegar never took time for Rhaenys and like her even her little girl had been lonely for a long time.

Elia rushed out of the door and she saw Rhaenys was in the arms of the very same blonde man and both of them were laughing.

Elia waited a minute before she cleared her throat to gain the attention of her daughter and her blonde savior

"Mommy!" Rhaenys cried and ran towards her mother to give her a hug.

Elia gave a small smile "Rhaenys, Go and stay in my room and don't open the door to anyone except me."

Rhaenys just bobbed her head and immediately headed to her mother's room.

Veekeris just smile at the scene and after Rhaenys left he said "You have a very beautiful daughter. She will do you proud one day."

Elia just gave a curt nod and replied "We need to talk."

Veekeris knew it was coming and the only thing he could do was just to give a sigh.

"I think we can talk in my room." Veekeris said while pointing towards his room. Elia didn't waste a moment and followed him hastily. Clearly, she was getting impatient for some answers.

And God knows she deserved them, after the things which she saw her mysterious savior do right in front of her.

After getting settled in Elia decided to not waste a single moment since even now it was unsure whether she was going to make out of this alive or not "Why did you save me?"

Veekeris just gave a light frown at the unexpected question and couldn't help but reply honestly "I don't need a reason to save a woman from getting raped and a child from getting butchered right in front of her mother."

Elia was a little taken aback by the unexpected her answer. Since her stay in King's landing she had lost every such notion of help due to kindness. She couldn't help but feel a little ashamed however her trust in the man increased a little. Because he didn't save her for some other agenda other than his conscience. Men like that were rare in Westeros.

"How did you find me and how did you manage to get inside the Red Keep?" Elia asked since she was honestly curious. It was one of the most safeguarded place in the entirety of Seven Kingdoms.

Elia was watching the man like a hawk, scanning his face for any change in his features so that she could somehow make some sense of this man.

And what she saw almost made her blush, the blond man made a pouting face unknowingly as if he was trying to think too hard. He looked like a cute puppy, and again she was hit by a wave of guilt to let the young man go through such hard questioning when just some time ago he had risked his life to save hers from a fate even worse than death.

"I wasn't trying to find you, I was hiding and was hoping that no one would find me. The only reason I chose Red Keep to hide was because like you I thought it would be well protected but after managing to get in so easily I should have known. There were barely any guards to stop me." Veekeris replied with a straight face.

Elia again opened her mouth to ask another question but was immediately interrupted by the said man.

"I have some question too, like for instance what's your name? Why did those people in golden armor want to kill you? Because as of now the only thing I know is that you are a woman and you have a daughter."

Elia's eyes widened as she gaped at the man. _'How can anyone in Westeros not know who I am?'_ She couldn't help but think repeatedly on that. She had already lost her voice because of just a simple question which she never thought that she would have to answer to anyone.

Elias eyes immediately narrowed as she searched for any sort of deception from the said man while this man looked right back at her without any sort of discomfort.

She didn't saw a single sign of the said deception.

' _He really doesn't know who I am?'_ she screamed in her mind again because she didn't know what to think any more.

"It's not that difficult you know, you can at least tell me your name. I will go first… My name is _Veekeris_." He managed to say somewhat awkwardly. As if his very name was foreign to himself.

Elia was still starring at him with dumbfounded expression though somehow she managed to find her voice. All those lessons from the Septas were being used on full force right now.

"Veekeris…" Elia pronounced the said man's name for the very first time and she couldn't help but think of it as a very weird name "My name is Elia Martell and my daughter who you saved is named Rhaenys."

Veekeris didn't miss the sarcasm and the exasperation she used in the tone to answer his simple question. He couldn't help but question her further "You speak as if I am supposed to know who you are..."

All the lessons from the Septa's went straight to hell.

Elia's face immediately changed from somewhat calm to downright incredulous and a tad bit indignant. She screamed out "Of course you are supposed to know me. I was supposed to be the next Queen of the Seven Kingdoms!" Her scream immediately died on her throat when she saw the man flinch, she immediately gave out an apology "I am sorry! I didn't meant to sound ungrateful. I was… I was just taken aback."

Veekeris just gave a slight nod to show that he accepted her apology.

Whereas Elia just couldn't help but feel downright terrible. She had been haranguing this man since the start of the conservation with her suspicions and her anger. She was projecting her anger on her not so fortunate situation on the man who saved her.

' _Way to make a first impression! Elia!'_ Elia chastised herself.

Veekreis was still staring at her and gave a small smile and tried his level best to change the subject by changing it to her apparent safety "You don't have to worry now, we are now quite far from King's Landing. I believe we are now at an inn in… Starfall. That should keep us safe from the knights who were chasing you since now we are quite far in the south."

Elia was surprised, she didn't think that she would make this far so quickly. Just how long was she out!

"Just how long it has been since I passed out!?" Elia asked in a little panic. She wanted the answer to that immediately.

"Just few hours, maybe three or four at max." Veekeris grounded out calmly.

Elia made a gob smacked face and then her eyes narrowed like slits due to her anger. Did this man take her for a fool!? No one could make that far in such time constraints. Even with the fastest horses in Dorne and this man didn't even own a single horse at least she didn't saw one. This was simply not possible. Was he mocking her?

"Do you take me for a fool!? Do you really want me to believe that you were able to carry both me and my daughter from King's Landing to Starfall under a few hours and without the help of any form of transportation?" Elia spoke with the entire authority of a Queen with her teeth barred and her face taut. Veekeris now knew why she could have been chosen as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

If Veekeris was a normal man, he would have done anything to escape this woman's ire right about now. However Veekeris didn't even flinch as if he had went through glares and threats from people far more dangerous than her and Elia Martell didn't fail to notice that. She had been playing the Game of Thrones for quite some time now and she had almost developed a primal sense to read people who had real power otherwise she wouldn't have survived this long in that cesspool.

"Believe what you will Lady Elia Martell because I have no obligations whatsoever to answer you. I believe I have already answered enough of your queries." Veekeris said with a blank face barely showing any emotions on her little outbursts and then he went and opened his door showing her the way out of his room.

Elia was shocked and surprised at first and that was the only expression she had worn from the start of this conversation but then she gave a hard look at Veekeris who returned the favor with his own blank expression.

' _I will find all your secrets Veekeris, it's only a matter of time. Someone like you can't hide from the people for long, especially after you saved me.'_ Elia though with as much determination her frail body could allow.

She felt bad to treat him with suspicion but she couldn't help it. This man had managed to sneak into one of the most secure places in King's Landing, the Red Keep and then he managed to single handedly beat Amory Lorch and not to mention the Mountain. He did that without receiving a single scratch then he had predicted the arrival of the Lannister knight's way before they actually appeared like he was able to sense them and finally he claimed to somehow bring her and her child from the Red Keep to Starfall within a matter of few hours.

She couldn't help but feel intimidated and be afraid of him but this was the same man who had selflessly came in between her and the false knights to save her from any kind of harm when he himself was scared for his life. She knew he was afraid because the moment before the fight started she actually saw him trembling but then he somehow crushed those bastards. And he did all that just because he couldn't watch a woman and a child get hurt. In a sea full of heartless and cruel men, he was a good man and she had somehow angered him enough to be escorted out of his chambers like some petulant child.

But she wasn't going to give up that easily. _'Not a fucking way that is going to happen!'_

She slowly walked out of his room but not before mumbling a small apology. However before she could take her leave and hide her embarrassment he held her back by a gentle grip on her arm.

"Look, I don't know how to say this but I meant everything which I said back in the Red Keep. I won't harm you or your child in anyway…. I give you my word" Veekeris paused for a moment to take a long breath and mumbled in a weak tone "Since you are the only one I know in Westeros." Veekeris hoped that she didn't hear that but he wasn't going to be allowed such a mercy since Elia heard him clear and sound but she didn't dare question him because she didn't wanted to push her luck any further "After safely sending back to your place, wherever it is. I will go my way and you will never see me again. If that is what you want?" Veekeris finished awkwardly in a melancholic expression.

Elia just looked at him stupefied because of the blonde man's recent confession. She couldn't help but think _'Does he think of her so conceited that I wouldn't want to be in the presence of my own savior?'_

"You are mistaken-very mistaken, if you think that I want you out of my life after you have done protecting me." Elia said sternly so that he would never have such doubts ever again. She didn't want to him to have such dark thoughts about her.

"However I wanted to know more about the man who saved me." Elia finished while looking as regal as possible with that she disappeared into her chambers.

' _I would also like to find out more about myself too.'_

Veekeris woke up with a gasp, his entire body was covered with sweat. Tears shimmered in his eyes yet he refused to shed them, as he gasped for breath. Dreams, Veekeris always hated them because he never experienced a good one. There was just so much bloodshed in them that mere words could never do them justice. But this particular one was the nastiest he had ever experienced in last three months.

He saw his death…..

He was killed as a boy of mere thirteen shoved a lightning covered fist through his chest.

Veekeris shook his head at the impossibility of the dream, magic didn't exist in this world but then why did it feel so real. _'WHY!?'_

Veekeris's eyes widened in panic as he heard a faint scream from the room beside him. Veekeris ran, his dream all but forgotten.

' _Please be safe!'_

Veekeris almost broke Elia's chambers door in his hurry.

Elia was taking small breaths, it seemed as if she was in pain yet her eyes were closed. Tears flowed out of her eyes like a fountain. She was suffering through a nightmare just like him and a particularly nasty one at that, it didn't take a genius to figure that out.

Elia's scream had woken Rhaenys up from her slumber. It appeared Rhaenys was still sleepy because she was still rubbing her eyes unaware of her mother's predicament.

Veekeris gently tapped Elia on her shoulders however she refused to wake up from her nightmare.

"Elia! Wake up it's nothing but a nightmare." Veekeris light slapped her cheeks.

Elia woke up with a cry and looked around and started sobbing gently as she curled herself refusing to interact with anyone. Veekeris held her gently and did his level best to comfort her but this was a grey area for him. He had never dealt with problems like this. Heck! He could barely deal with his own nightmares.

"It's okay Elia, it was just a nightmare. Everything's fine." Veekeris consoled her repeatedly while rubbing her back.

"It's all my fault - - All this happened because of me." Elia spoke with a haunted look. Veekeris didn't dare stop her "This bloody war happened because I couldn't satisfy my husband. It happened because I wasn't enough." Elia continued while she gave a hollow chuckle.

"When I first married to Rhaegar, I knew there was no love between us. It was a marriage of convenience and I had no delusions of me being more beautiful than Lyanna but was it really worth starting a war over and _was it really worth it to expose our children to untold danger!?"_ Elia almost screamed the part out barely managing to hold it in so that she didn't wake Rhaenys up.

' _I am kind of out of the loop here.'_ Veekeris thought desperately.

"What happened Elia? Whatever it is you can talk to me. I might not be able to offer any form of comfort but I can listen maybe that would help." Veekeris spoke with sincerity, he really wanted to help her because at present she was the only person in the world who knew even a little about him and he didn't wanted her to lose herself to her grief.

Elia was a little taken aback by this and living in King's Landing for so long made her arouse suspicions immediately. Her mind was trying to figure out any kind of nefarious purpose behind this. But she wasn't able to find even one and she desperately needed to unload her troubles immediately. In King's Landing she had no one, she wasn't even able to trust her own husband but here was an unknown person who had given her so much than any other person other than her family had done and had asked nothing for in return.

' _Why does he care so much?'_ Elia thought before she told him everything.

Veekeris listened to her well into the early morning as she unloaded her troubles to him piece by piece. She never shared much about herself most probably due to her still being wary of him but she told him enough. She told him about her home in Sunspear, living in Dorne and then coming to King's Landing after her marriage to Rhaegar 'The Crown Prince' and then things went south. She managed to tell him about the Harrenhall Tourney where her husband crowned Lyanna Stark as the 'Queen of Love and Beauty.' Instead of her which lead to the said woman's kidnapping by Rhaegar and then the rebellion by Robert Baratheon for his betrothed, Lyanna Stark.

Veekeris didn't know what to think, the entire reason for the war could be summarized in few sentences which was the two kingly men simply couldn't keep it in their pants. For some reason, this made Veekeris very angry, it felt as if he knew war better then he gave himself credit for and that scared him more then he would admit. He just couldn't fathom just how many women and children were killed because of the whims of two men. Just how many Elia's were there right now in the Seven Kingdom's?

Westeros needed stability a badly at that otherwise it was going towards an economic and social collapse.

"I still can't believe he shamed me like that in front of the entire tourney." Elia raged with all of her dornish spitfire waking Veekeris from his musing. Veekeris gave a little smile on seeing her angry since it was better than her being woefully depressed.

Elia saw that smile and blushed due to her embarrassment. However she managed to collect herself and spoke "I am sorry that you had to listen to all…this." Her blush dimmed a little and she felt oddly relieved after talking away all her problems.

"Don't worry, I like talking with you." Veekeris replied with the same genial smile.

"We hardly talked, I was the only one who was speaking" Elia shot back with a snort and continued "talking involves at least two people speaking to each other which we weren't partaking on." She finished sternly.

Veekeris was amused after watching her one of many little tirades she made during the entire night. She had a look of mock rage on her face. Her raven hair was bouncing from one side to other accelerating the effect of rage but not deterring her beauty. He was really amused until she turned her face and her look of rage was replaced by a fierce determination. Veekeris gulped and waited for the impending explosion.

"Veekeris where are you from? What do you do for a living? What do you want from your life?" Elia asked rapidly with a desperation which Veekeris thought she wasn't even capable off.

Elia stared in to her savior's mesmerizing azure blue eyes hoping beyond anything that the man before her would reveal something especially after she shared so much of herself.

Veekeris face went taut as she stared into him while biting her lower lips. At this moment Veekeris wanted more than anything to talk about himself. But he couldn't… he never felt more pitiful. He was a man with no goal, no ambitions, no dreams, no family and no identity.

Veekeris somehow managed to keep the superfluous emotion from showing his face because if he had entertained them he might have broken right then and there. He refused to portray himself as a weak man.

' _It is as if I am used to pain…'_

Instead Veekeris gave a wide grin which lit the entirety of his face and replied "I am a sailor, just started my profession, still a newbie. I am actually from Essos but came to King's Landing to try my luck." He paused for a minute trying to think very hard "Dreams? People like us are not really allowed to have them. Dreams, are the staple of nobles which often leads them to their ruin..." Veekeris finished somehow managing his grin while keeping his own sadness at bay.

He hated lying especially to the only person who knew him at present since he was pretty sure that the people he travelled with to the King's Landing were probably dead already. Surprisingly he didn't care for them just that thought made him want to puke. What kind of a man he was before he lost his memory? Why was he so used to death and destruction? He desperately wanted to find out in fact that was the only goal in his life right now. The goal which made it possible for him to wake up every morning, instead of just killing himself or just quietly passing on to the Stranger. Some people lived for their work, some for their family, however for the last few months he had only been living to find answers. But now, he was afraid to receive his answers; what if he was a monster who murdered people for fun? Since, it seemed that he was extremely good when it came to the art of killing.

"I think you should leave my room right about now; you wouldn't want to be part of some scandalous rumours would you?" Elia asked with a teasing smile.

It took a moment for Veekeris to process her statement but when he did process it he blushed from head to toe on her insinuation. Clearly, he wasn't used to this sort of exchange of words. He rushed out of her room as fast as a stag while Elia laughed melodiously behind him.

However, the moment Veekeris tailed out of her room, Elia's expression turned sombre, tears gathered in her eyes however she refused to shed them. She was stronger than this, she repeated her house's words repeatedly 'Unbowed, Unbent, and Unbroken'. She tried hard but in the end she was overwhelmed by her emotions, her tears freely flowed from her eyes like pearls.

She just couldn't believe that the man who she shared so much with just hours ago would...would lie to her face. But she couldn't help but also find amusement in the fact that the blonde might be the worst liar in Westeros . Who did he think he was trying to fool with that fake smile of his?

He might not have given her the truth now but eventually she was going to find everything about him anyways; Elia Martell promised herself. His constant hedging from his life had only fanned the fire in her to learn more about her saviour. Elia Martell if anything she was persistent and she rarely gave up on anything. Their little game was going to end sooner or later.

 **Tell me how did you guys liked it in the reviews. Reviews help me a lot to write the future chapters. If you guys have any question do PM me. I will try to answer them to the best of my ability.**

 **Bye! For now...**


	3. Chapter 3

**This Chapter is beta'd by literarilychallenged. Hope you guys enjoy it!**

 **Chapter 3**

Elia woke up late in the morning, releasing all the internal emotional turmoil she had felt for years had left her exhausted. She still couldn't believe that she had opened herself to a complete and utter stranger. A man who she had met only a scant few hours earlier, granted he and saved both her and her daughter's life from a fate worse than death but still she had never trusted a man this much, this quickly in her life. For all reason, Veekeris truly was a knight in the shining armor for her. He had that image imprinted on her brain the moment he came gallantly to her rescue. She still shuddered whenever she closed her eyes as she always saw the expressions of pure lust and battle rage on the faces of the Mountain and Amory Lorch.

Elia slowly brought both of her hands and hugged herself to give herself some much needed warmth and comfort. The pain form that incident was not going to go anytime soon. And she was sure the nightmares had just begun.

' _Still not as warm as his hands when he comforted me.'_ Elia thought abashedly before she quickly discarded that thought from her mind. She didn't have the time to entertain such ludicrous fantasies.

There were still things about Veekeris she didn't know and what she did know just didn't fit into any puzzle. And that somehow always managed to put her on edge. Not because she was worried that he would betray her since she was already way past that even a blind man could see that he was worried for her and her daughter's health and that already put him in a much better place than Rhaegar, her own husband. It was because sometimes during her previous conversation with her he acted as if he was man without a purpose or a solid goal and that scared her more than she could admit. She had been living in King's landing for the past few years and there she had learned that everyone had ambitions and sure goals which they would achieve by any means possible no matter how ruthless or brutal they had to become.

' _What happened to you Veekeris? Why are you so sad all the time?'_

Elia took a deep breath, now was not the time to worry about a total stranger there were still important things needed to be done. She had to get Aegon, her baby boy back. Just the thought of her recently born child made tears shimmer in her eyes. She had given him to the Spider so that he could take him out of the Kings' Landing. It was no longer safe for the little babe to stay in a place as perverted as the Capital. He would have been a target for every noble and peasant who either wanted to kill him or use him for their own agendas. So knowing the danger that babe as young as Aegon would be in travelling, she had steeled her heart and allowed Varys to smuggle her babe, thinking no matter what happened to her at least one of her child would be safe.

However, now she and Rhaenys were relatively safe but there was no news about Aegon. She held no delusions that Varys will be giving back her boy without a fight. That Spider must have already made all sorts of plans and games around her little Aegon. Just the thought made her grit her teeth, but what other choice did she have. She was desperate.

"Elia, Can I come in?" She heard Veekeris from behind the door along with light knocking. Elia thanked Veekeris again in her mind for not allowing her thoughts to turn dark. She owed so much to the man, more than he even realized.

 **Red Keep – Kings' Landing** _._

The serene presence of the castle placed on a bed of rock, as sturdy as the brave men that once resided in it had been brought down by the cruelty inflicted upon it. The stone walls of the castle, a symbol of strength and power in itself, stood there in ruins. Its' walls dirtied by treachery of their own, by the blood shed of those that remained loyal to the Targaryens. The red velvet carpets that were once walked upon by men whose conquests can only be looked upon as legends were now deeply stained with blood.

The Iron Throne built by Aegon the conqueror, was now polishing the arse of a Kingslayer, Jamie Lannister.

Shielded by golden metal worthy of a King, Tywin Lannister walked through the corridor of what remained of the Red Keep, followed by his loyal banner men of Banefort, Crakehall, Westerlings, and other great houses of Westerland. His mind drifted for a moment towards the suffering that he'd barely spread a glance towards while walking through the streets of the Kings' Landing. He convinced himself that suffering he inflicted upon the residents of Kings' Landing was for the sake of his family, for his kingdom. For the Lannisters.

Tywin reached the foot of the familiar doors that shielded the root of all the chaos – The Iron Throne.

With a deep breath, he thrusts his foot against the door, which yielded to his power, promptly opening to reveal a silhouette sitting at the edge of the steps that led up to the Iron throne, the figure partly guarded by shadows only to avow a rueful smile that played on his lips, before he looked up to greet the Lord standing at the doorsill with a cavalcade of men at his foot. "Father," he spoke with his arms drawn out in mockery, "Welcome to the Red Keep."

Tywin gave a hint of recognition before totally disregarding his own blood. His features set to stone, only giving way to a light scowl that furrowed his brows, "Where is the queen and her two children?"

If Jaime was hurt by his father's lack of concern, he didn't express it. "They have escaped." Jaime replied with a hint of amusement, missing the grimace that swept Tywin's face.

"Some say that she was helped by a man. Not even the Mountain could stop him. Swift as the wind, stern as a rock. Some even say that he was blessed by the Gods."

Now there was a notable sneer marring Tywin Lannister's features, instantly instilling fear in his following banner men that shuffled back, to avoid their Lord Paramount's wrath. After all this was the man who had utterly destroyed two families – Reyne and Tarbeck – without a second thought, for daring to stand against him. For daring to tarnish the name of Lannisters.

"You should know better than to believe in the superstitions of common men. We are the Lannisters, and we do not believe in heresy! I want Ravens to be sent to every castle till Dornish Marches to capture or kill the man who is with Elia Martell and her children. Let it be known that if any harm is to come to the queen or the children, a grave punishment will be inevitable. I will discipline them myself."

Tywin looks back at Lord Benfort, scowling a little as he spoke, "Why are you still here? I have issued a command. Do not become the fool and disappoint me."

 ***Scene Break***

The dispersed neighs of the two horses and the clacking of hooves could be heard in the muddy roads, being trodden by the travelers. The black horse was being ridden by a single man who was wearing a hood to hide his features whereas the other horse was white as snow and was being ridden by a petite woman and a child with distinguished silvery white hair who was looking in to passing scenery excitedly and occasionally giggling merrily.

Elia shifted in her horse and tried to glance at the man riding beside her however the only thing she saw behind his hood was inky blackness. She huffed and looked at the other side, she was confused when Veekeris had asked her to get ready immediately to venture forth to Sunspear her home. She had thought that they would be staying another day to get back in health but apparently that was not the case. Considering they had already crossed the Dornish Marches and were now at Starfall where Lannisters and Baratheons had no influence, they could have afforded to have adequate rest.

Then after few minutes when she came out of the inn, she saw it. There were two horses, one black as onyx while other was white as snow. They had long neck and a narrow but beautiful head which was riddled by mane like hair. Just one look at them and she knew what breed they were. They were 'Sand Steeds'. Horses born and raised in the rough weather of Dorne, said to be capable of running whole day and night and still not getting tired. They weren't like war horses which could carry the weight of a fully armored knight however for people who were at run they were perfect. Now, if only Elia could figure out how he managed to procure them. She didn't want to question him because she knew she was already at thin ground with Veekeris because of repeatedly asking questions on his past.

He acted tighter and stiffer then a Septa when it came to his past. Didn't he realize that only made her all the more curious!?

Silence permeated between them. Elia didn't like it one bit even Rhaenys could feel the wrongness in the air. She watched as her savior slowly brought his steed towards her and whispered, "Do not react, Just calmly listen to me."

Elia stiffened momentarily but then she hastily covered her apprehension and nodded.

"We are surrounded. They are not wearing any notable armors, maybe they are bandits." Veekeris stated calmly.

' _Great! We are not even out of Starfall and we are already being attacked by bandits and brigands.'_ Elia thought dryly within the confines of her mind. She tightened her hold on her only daughter.

"How many are there?" Elia questioned immediately knowing that Veekeris wasn't normal even by her imaginative stretch, and might actually know the answer to her question since he had done something similar during the incidents in Red Keep. She was still trying to wrap her head around that one. She just simply didn't have enough time to process everything.

"Twenty Seven." Veekeris replied again as if he was just discussing weather.

Elia looked at her hooded savior with horror as her stomach dropped. And Her throat went dry. She knew beyond doubt that this was the end of them. This bandit group were as big as small platoons of soldier. Even if the bandits didn't have castle forged armors and swords there was no way they would be able to fight all of them by just having a single able bodied fighter. They stood no chance.

Elia herself was no good when it came to a fight. She herself has always been weak when it came to physicality. The results of her being born prematurely according to the maesters.

Was this how she was going to die? Killed by a bandit she would have rather been killed by a Lannister.

Elia felt a hand on her shoulder giving a gentle squeeze immediately breaking her from her dark thoughts yet again. She turned backwards and saw the hard face of Veekeris staring at her, "Do. Not. Worry" Veekeris said out each word as if they were directly coming from the mouth of the very Seven.

"Remember what I promised, I won't let anyone hurt you or Rhaenys." He said as he stared in to her eyes, daring her to doubt him.

Elia realized for the first time that Veekeris had the bluest eyes she had ever seen, bluer then even a Baratheon, it was as if they stared in to her very soul. She found a strength in them which she had never seen in any man before. For the first time in her life Elia Nymeros Martell felt herself self-conscious, she could feel the blood pumping to her cheeks making it look flushed. She didn't dare stare into those eyes anymore even though Elia knew she wouldn't mind doing just that for ages instead she hugged her daughter even harder despite little Rhaenys constant protests.

Rhaneys didn't like to be used as a stuffed animal. Even by her own mother. She was a princess not a toy.

"When it begins, close your daughter's eyes. I don't want her to see this."

Elia just gave a nod in confirmation. And prepared herself for the inevitable clash.

After few minutes they heard a rustle and just like Veekeris said they were surrounded by an entire platoon of bandits, some snarling, some growling with their yellow teeth's while brandishing their crude swords and knifes.

Veekeris stared at them from behind his hood and came to one single conclusion.

Scum.

The lot of them, lowest of the lowest trashes. He hated his ability to feel emotions now more than ever. Because the things which he felt from these animals were best left unsaid.

Elia immediately closed Rhaenys eyes with her hands not wanting her to be addressed by looks of unrestrained lust and brutality which was to surely follow.

Elia also shuddered a little remembering the looks of Amory Lorch and Mountain. She refused to call them 'Ser' cause they were no knights.

"Kill them. Kill them all." Elia whimpered. Her eyes bloodshot. She stood strong, unbent and unbroken. Keeping true to her house's namesake.

Veekeris just gave her a side along glance from her hood and dashed towards them. Not even bothering with the pre-fight pleasantries. These men were not worthy of such honor.

Before the leader of the pack could even taunt, Veekeris was already beside him with his knife and slit his throat in a swift swing.

Rest of the bandits went in to a momentary shock but soon they managed to get their bearings. One of them tried to punch Veekeris from behind but like a wraith Veekeris simply caught the bandits arm in a lock and in a swift motion broke the entire arm and gave two hard punches, one in the ribs and another in the stomach. The bandit gave a soundless scream and the he just fell in to the hard unforgiving ground. Never to move again.

Another five of them charged some with swords others just with their fists or maces.

Veekeris just gave a glance and then threw his knife at one of them. The knife flew true and buried itself deep within the eye socket of one of the scums.

The rest four of the bandits didn't even stop knowing already that their comrade was dead. They attacked him repeatedly with swords, knives, their fists but none seemed to connect. He was like a stream. Pliant but a force to be reckoned with.

It was as if Veekeris wasn't even trying to fight, it was as if he was dancing to a soundless tune and when the tune finished the stage was painted red with blood. To him, it was an art. A play so to speak.

Their opponent grunted as he moved in an unreal swiftness. He hit a bandit to his right, immediately disarming him and then using the discarded sword he bisected the other two bandits from waist down in a single smooth swing.

Veekeris himself showed a little surprise because this was the first time he had felt that he was at home. This place, this Westeros always felt foreign to him however when he was fighting it felt as if he was truly free. Here he was the 'King'. None stood above him.

 ***Scene Break***

Elia Martell had attended a lot of tourneys and in return had seen a lot of knights trying to best each other in melee's and jousts but none have ever come close to the skill or efficiency of Veekeris. She had seen Ser Arthur Dayne, Barristan Selmy, and the likes of Jaime Lannister fight but they were nothing compared to Veekeris. He fought like the very Warrior she and most of Westeros worshipped.

No wonder he had managed to stop those Lannister dogs. They never stood a chance against his unnatural swiftness and precision.

Nothing seemed to touch him. The bandits might as well have been mere children before the skill and brutality of Veekeris. She watched as their number dwindled one by one, none coming even close to her or her Rhaenys. This was the man who had rescued her. He was an utter monster on the battlefield.

Elia watched as the number of bandits which were upwards of twenty dwindle down to a single, lone person. She saw as one bandit try to crawl away from Veekeris while bleeding from what was left of his legs.

"You Demon! Stay away from me!" the bandit crowed. Fear was the very anthem on his expressions.

Elia watched as Veekeris slowly walked towards the bandit with a gait. His face was empty that was all Elia could come up with to describe his expression. He had no emotions to speak of as he killed his enemies. It was as if he was a trained killer, his eyes were cold and emotionless. He felt, something out of this world. An anomaly.

Elia shivered as she saw Veekeris plunge a sword in to the bandit's heart. It felt so precise, so accurate, his action held no wasted movements whatsoever. Even someone uninitiated in the arts of warfare could tell that; his actions were that precise.

' _Who are you Veekeris?'_ Elia though for the umpteenth time. Even she was tired of asking the same question again and again; and she knew she will be asking the same thing until she got her answers.

"They have come Elia, knights of your house." Veekeris replied dryly but if anyone would have looked closer they would have seen an undercurrent of disappointment.

Elia didn't even have a moment to think when suddenly they were encircled by the armored men wearing sigils of her house. The sun pierced by a spear. The sigil of the house of Martell. The Lord Paramount's of Dorne.

Elia's eyes finally teared up in relief when she saw her brother, Oberyn Martell, amongst the knights of her house who had come for her. She had stayed strong for so long, not allowing herself to cry but now she was among family, now she was truly safe and that thought immediately made her tear up.

Mounting off the horse, Oberyn swiftly reaches out for her, wrapping her snugly in a warm embrace, almost sweeping her off her feet; he holds her for a long moment, before releasing her with a tender expression in his eyes, "I'm so glad to see you unharmed, sister. When we received the tidings from Kings's Landing, we assumed the worst. I'd already set out for war with Robert Baratheon but with the whispers of a royal blooded woman in Starfall I decided to visit here first and I am glad that I did."

Oberyn's eyes wandered towards a bundle which held the leg of her sister tightly. He smiled when he saw the little girl tugging the gown of her mother. He knew exactly who the little girl was. He scooped Rhaenys and twirled her in midair. Oberyn's face lit up in a smile when he heard little Rhaenys giggle; it was the sweetest thing he had ever heard.

"So, this is our princess." Oberyn boasted still refusing to let Rhaenys down.

Oberyn immediately went slack when he finally saw a man wearing a cloak, in the middle of a bunch of dead bodies while the man still had his blade drawn. Oberyn gaped when he saw the number of dead bandits which surrounded the man.

Did this man really kill all of them!? What was his sister doing with a man like that? Such questions plagued Oberyn's mind. He immediately turned Rhaneys away from the sight; a child had no place in a battlefield like this.

"You must be the savior of my dear sister!" Oberyn greeted with some exuberance and steel, "Do you mind removing your cloak so that we can introduce each other face to face?"

Veekeris slowly removed his cloak, showing his facial features to Oberyn and the rest of his men.

Elia saw Oberyn give a sigh of contentment, she herself took in his features closely and for the first time she realized that Veekeris was handsome, he was in fact beyond handsome. He didn't have overly burly muscles like most of the knights, he had high cheekbones with beautiful azure blue eyes, his spiky hair came down in two bangs from the side of his forehead. Elia wondered why she had never noticed it before.

Elia then turned towards her brother and felt her eye twitch in anger and embarrassment. Her brother was ogling Veekeris without any restraint. She knew her brother was a bisexual but this was going too far!

She saw Veekeris fidget uncomfortably under her brother's stare and she made her decision immediately and decked her brother on his head rather hard and gave him a look that warned ' _Don't you dare start it here!'_

She didn't want Veekeris to think that her family was full of perverts, her behavior towards him still required a lot to be desired. She didn't want to fuck this up even further lest Veekeris grew tired and left her.

The thought of Veekeris leaving her didn't sit well with Elia. It just felt wrong. She had never experienced such a profound sense of doom from a mere thought of something so insignificant happening. For her own sanity she didn't dare to think more.

Oberyn gave out a sigh unknown of his sisters' thoughts, "We should go to Starfall immediately, Dayne's will host us for a few days but after that we must make haste."

Numerous nods resonated amongst Oberyn's knights, they had been traveling relentlessly from Dorne, stopping only for food and other necessities along the way. Drained of energy, the knights were yearning for some hearty food and a decent night's worth of sleep.

Veekeris observed silently, before making a move to quietly slip away from the crowd. He felt his responsibility fulfilled seeing as she was now safe with her family. Elia takes notice of his demeanor and a passing moment of panic could be seen marring her features. Veekeris only looked at her oddly before she rushed to his side and gripped his wrist tightly with her slender fingers, as if she were holding onto dear life, before tugging her alongside with her, whispering back as she did, "Come with me to the Starfall castle."

 _ **Starfall Castle, Dorne.**_

Veekeris entered the castle first with Elia, since his wrist was still under the grips of Elia's palm, she refused to let go even after his repeated assurances that he was, in fact, following right behind her. She tugged his arm, and never let him be more than an arm's length away.

Having crossed the gates of the castle, Elia finally exhaled a breath of relief. She took a deep breath and looked at Veekeris before realizing that she still held his wrist within her palm. She loosened her grip before offering him a weak smile. Veekeris managed to respond with an awkward smile of his own before grabbing his sore wrist and rubbing it lightly. _'For a petite woman, she sure has a grip on her.'_ He thought to himself.

It took about an hour for their entire party to make it into the castle and settle. Rooms were assigned and a fest was served with honey roasted pork, soup, bread and some delicious vegetables and fruits.

Even after all this, there was no merriment to be had. Because after Oberyn had exchanged some niceties with their host Ashara Dayne, she had deemed to drop some startling news about the Battle of Trident. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen lost his life against Robert Baratheon, that news didn't come as a surprise to Elia or Veekeris since there was no way that Tywin would have attacked King's Landing until he was assured of the death of Rhaegar Targaryen.

Sadly, that was not the end of the tragedy. After the sacking of King's Landing, it came to attention that Sir Arthur Dayne and the rest of the Kingsguard had lost their lives to Ned Stark and his men while guarding Lyanna Stark at the Tower of Joy on the orders of Rhaegar Targaryen.

Veekeris didn't particularly care for any of them, but he came to one single obvious conclusion that these mentioned people were supposedly important because through the entire explanation, there were resounding gasps and mutterings amongst the gathered ladies and knights.

Veekeris frowned a little when he saw Ashara speaking of the various tidings across Westeros, she had a beautiful doll-like smile, which like a doll, was also lifeless. A smile that was never reflected in her eyes. Her eyes looked like a stony shade of violet, cold and devoid of life. Veekeris imagined her eyes having once lit up like vibrant petunias.

There was an unspoken tension in the atmosphere. Veekeris could tell that things were only about to get worse. " _Anyway, it's not my problem. I'll be out of here by tomorrow morning._ " He thought.

Stars had already lit up the night sky. They were like little lanterns, that bejeweled the cloak of darkness, which gave hope to lost travelers. It was as if they were saying that everything was going to be okay, that there was hope, no matter how dark the cosmos may seem.

Ashara couldn't help but let out a deranged chuckle on her particular line of thought, because she hadn't received any of that hope. She had lost everything in this war. She had lost her lover to a Tully. Her dear brother lost because of his own sense of honour. Her parents now dead.

All that she had left was a little sister that would soon be fostered at another family. She had no one left to call her own.

' _How did things turn out like this?'_ she asked herself, not expecting to know the answer.

She dragged herself to the top of the tallest tower in Starfall, known as the Palestone Sword.

She hugged her slender frame and took a deep breath with great effort, closing her eyes as she did. She tilted her head back, her fingers now caressing the side of her neck, warming herself up. ' _Winter is coming,'_ she thought again before slowly opening her eyes to gaze up at the stars.

And just for a moment, she felt at peace. Looking up at the stars gave her a sense of diminishing ache in her heart. She inhaled deeply again, before looking straight ahead, at the land surrounding the castle. From all the way up here, she could see everything. And she did while slowly ascending the steps of the ledge, until she was at the very threshold. She looked down for a moment and her body swayed, her heart thumping just the slightest bit faster at the thought of what she was about to do.

"Don't do it."

She thought, for a second, that it was her own conscience speaking.

"Don't do it."

She heard again, from a stern voice. Almost as if the voice was ordering her so.

She turned, startled, and looked in the direction of where the voice resounded from.

There stood a silhouette, propped up against a wall, arms crossed while heeding her with watchful eyes.

' _Veekeris.'_ She recognized. She had heard a lot about the man during the feast. The tales were so embellished that she found it hard to even relate to the person. It also didn't help that she had not even spoke a single word with him.

His eyes bore into her, taking her in her entirety. Almost as if she was being put on a pedestal and being judged. She decided that she didn't like this feeling.

Veekeris tried to convince himself repeatedly that he had nothing to do with this. That this woman's woes weren't his to share. But then in the middle of the night, he heard her getting out of her chamber and moving up to the tower. He knew what was going to happen. And he realized that there wasn't a way in hell that he could turn a blind eye to this. He would never forgive himself.

' _I guess I'm not a heartless man, afterall.'_ Veekeris said to himself as if it was a curse.

As she turned to face him, he noticed her, perhaps for the very first time.

Her lacy white nightgown flowed around her majestically in the wind almost as if it was a cloak of snow mending to her will, and framing her supple figure in a delicate manner.

Her raven black tresses framed her sculpted features, a few strands escaping to get caught between her coral lips. Her initially started lilac eyes were now back to their steely coldness, although the thin streaks of tears down her cheek couldn't be missed. Her lip quivered lightly. Whether it was from the cold, or from having shed tears, Veekeris couldn't decide.

Her pale, star-lit skin seemed to shine on its own. The only color being the blood rushing to her cheeks to give a peachy tint.

Even in a state of distress and despair, she was a vision to behold. Veekeris saw this clearly as she stood hugging her frame in the cold breeze that flew around her. Such was her beauty, worthy of writing songs over.

Ashara glared at him, "Don't come any closer, or else I'll… I'll jump!" she stuttered but the hint of steel didn't go amiss by Veekeris.

He couldn't help but sigh, "This isn't going to solve anything." He donned a melancholic expression before continuing, "I know what you are thinking, how you feel. You think you have lost everything… That you have nothing to live for. You feel as if the world has betrayed you, but you know deep down that your bro-"

Ashara gritted her teeth, and snapped at him, for the very first time that day she didn't act within the boundaries of a noble lady, she snarled barring her teeth, "You know nothing about me! You certainly know nothing about my brother. He wasn't killed in a fair battle, he was stabbed in the back. By cowards. I HAVE lost everything worth losing. Someone like you would never understand! How could you!?"

Veekeris just glared back at her, and snapped back in response, "If you're going to jump, I'll jump with you."

Ashara burst into a chuckle which soon became a howling laughter, "Hah, you men are all the same. You promise your women the world, and instead of fulfilling that promise, you just snatch away hers." She finished mocking, sneer marring her face, "Now here's a man who wants to die with me."

This time, it was Veekeris who gave a dry chuckle, "You're assuming that I'm going to let you die. Even if you jump, I'm going to jump with you to make sure that you're not going to get hurt. Because you're not the only one who has lost everything."

Ashara just snorted in disbelief. This man was acting impossible.

"No one knows this, but Veekeris is not my real name."

Out of sheer curiosity and reflex, she immediately asked, "What is your name then?"

"I do not know."

"Pardon?" Ashara asked in disbelief. Was her mocking her?

"I don't know. As in, I don't remember anymore. I don't remember who I was. Heck, I don't even know _what_ I am. I don't know what kind of a life I used to lead three months ago. It's almost like I never existed until then. In fact, I don't even know if I exist right now. Even though you have lost everything, you still know what your place is in the world. Even a commoner knows what he is born as. He may be a farmer. A blacksmith. A bastard. But he still knows who he is. And that is a luxury which was taken from me." He huffed out in one long breath. He takes a moment to breathe deeply, closing his eyes for a moment longer, to get his thoughts in place.

Ashara didn't dare to look away from him. She was still trying to process everything he had just claimed. When Elia had talked to her about her companion, Elia was quite perplexed, because she just couldn't figure him out.

Now she understood why.

Elia couldn't figure out who this man was, because he didn't know himself. He was just as clueless about himself as Elia was. His world was truly cruel. He had no identity of his own. He had no place in this world.

"The second you decide to kill yourself, you are letting your entire family die. Because there is only you who truly knows them. Without you, their memories, their victories, their legacies, their love for you perish."

"And if a total failure amnesiac like myself can live his life despite having lost every semblance of his existence, then someone like you… beautiful, kind, and influential could surely hold onto your life. After all, you're not a total failure like me."

Ashara, for a minute, just stood there on top of the ledge, wordless and still before bursting into tears. All her memories with her parents, brothers, and friends hit her like a siren, waking her from her melancholy. What had she done!?

And started repeating again and again, "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry."

She wasn't apologizing to Veekeris. She was asking for forgiveness from her loved ones because she was about to commit something that she couldn't ever have recovered from. She was going to give the greatest insult she could have given to her deceased loved ones. That was unacceptable.

She felt shame for even having thought of taking the easy way out by ending her life. In a blur of having people important to her having lost their lives, she hadn't realized how precious her own was.

How much her life still meant.

Veekeris held out his hand to her and urged, "Come on now, give me your hands slowly. Everything's fine now… You are fine." He cooed.

He let out a sigh of relief when he finally saw the still breath-taking woman reaching out to him with her hand. But then they looked at each other, wide-eyed because the women that Veekeris had tried so hard to convince not to commit suicide had just slipped. It was as if time slowed down for both of them.

' _Is this the end?_ ' Ashara asked herself.

She felt herself slipping away to the darkness that she no longer wanted to be a part of.

As she fell, she looked up in panic, before noticing another figure follow her downward journey.

' _He jumped.'_ She thought to herself just as his arms reached out to her and wrapped her lithe figure snugly against his chest.

She looked up at him in disbelief while he maneuvered her on top of him, as if he was positioning himself to brace the impact.

Her heart dropped to her stomach, and in a passing moment, she saw all of the moments in her life that she had cherished and realized exactly _why_ she didn't want to die. It made her actions all the more deplorable. Her nostalgia soon became guilt and regret while she closed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the impending thrust of water to knock the air out of her lungs only for it to be filled by a sudden rush of water. Silencing her forever.

Instead, a moment later, she found herself hung in the arms of Veekeris, smack against his sculpted figure standing on… _water?_

She didn't question him, however. That was for another time instead she just lunged in his arms and wrapped her own tightly around his neck, holding onto him for dear life.

Veekeris offered a reassuring smile and softly whispered into her ear, "Let's get you home."

She smiled, it was a quite a long time since she had considered Starfall as her home but tonight it felt like one. She was going to commit suicide but because of the actions of a single man she had her home back. Sometimes life was beautiful in such way.

Ashara snuggled into his neck further and convinced herself that the only reason she had done this was because of the cold. Just because it was cold!

 **Thank You! For reading my fanfic. Please read and review afterall reviews are an author's bread butter. Share your thoughts and feelings on the new chapter with me. If you have some question PM me.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey Readers, here's the fourth installment of my Naruto GOT crossover. Thanks for all the love you have given to this fic. Which is surprisingly huge, by the way. Thanks, to that I have decided to revisit the previous chapters to make it better because I finally managed to get a beta for this story. So, if you see some update in the coming week, it would be because of that not due to a new chapter!**

 **Don't worry there won't be any changes to the plot, so none of you have to read the entire thing again!**

 **I would like to thank** _ **CruelRuin**_ **for beta reading this story. Thanks to him, you will find that this story is much more polished than other ones. And by the way my previous fic Naruto of the Phenex family has been adopted by** _ **SamaelTheDevil**_ **so do check it out!**

 **Chapter - 4**

Ashara Dayne of Starfall woke up from her slumber yawning adorably and rubbing her eyes with her dainty hands to get rid of her sleep. She felt light as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. These past few months were nothing short of hell for her, she had lost people close to her, one after another. Losing her brother was the last straw, it had broken her in ways she had never quite fathomed. Her kind and knightly brother was killed because of his own honor and for what!? A war which they lost to the Baratheons and Stark?

She cursed the very day Prince Rhaegar crowned Lady Lyanna Stark as the 'Queen of Love and Beauty.' Just a simple act of selfishness on his part had ruined hundreds of thousands of lives. Was her cunt really worth all that!? She gritted her teeth and shook her head, refusing to think more on the subject only to notice a figure snoozing away on a chair, right beside her bed.

Her mind came to an abrupt halt!

A man was in her private chambers… A man who she didn't even know was snoozing away in her chambers like there was nothing wrong about the entire situation. The next thing Ashara knew, she did what any woman in such a predicament would do, and so she screamed with every bit of strength her lungs could muster.

She was sure the entire castle must have heard her or rather they would have if a pair of hands haven't caught hold of her lips turning her screams into muffled yells and moans.

"Shhh… It's me." Veekeris replied in panic with his index finger over his lips.

Ashara gave few more muffled yells in return along with some nasty and choicest Valyrian curses, she had a wild look in her haunting purple eyes. She couldn't believe the fact that she was being shushed like a child. No one shushed her! Certainly not this man! So, in payback she bit the arm which was holding back her speech. She bit it hard with the entire power of her jaw, enough to make any normal man bleed.

It had no effect whatsoever, the man didn't even scream or show any sign of discomfort. In fact, he didn't even seem to notice it, which only managed to irk Ashara more than she already was. She looked like a damn puppy trying to square off against a trained hunting-dog.

The man removed his hood hastily, revealing his chiseled and cut face. Her cheeks tinged pink, taking in all his features, he was so close to her, his breath prickled her skin sending pleasurable sensations all over her being. Her mouth lost her grip on his hand as she gaped at the man.

"I am going to release you now," Veekeris replied, pleadingly, "Please don't scream."

She stared at the blonde man for a minute blushing harder. Looking at him she couldn't help but remember how his muscled arms felt when held her close to his chest protectively and caringly. She was so mesmerized by his actions that she never asked him about his ridiculous ability to walk on water neither how he managed to survive the whole brunt of the fall. For the Seven's sake, they were hundreds of feet high!

Instead all her thoughts were dominated by the man, who jumped right after her, risking his life so that she wouldn't die due to her very own foolishness. The shock and sheer disbelief of the action was something she would never forget in her life.

"What are you doing in my room?" Ashara hissed lacking any heat or bite in her tone, "Don't you know that you aren't supposed to be here?"

"You don't remember?" Veekeris asked, his eyes wide, and his face twisted in genuine befuddlement.

Ashara shook her head in dismay, getting really worried. She didn't remember what happened after she was saved by Veekeris. Did they do it!? She thought in alarm. She was Dornish, but she wasn't the kind of woman who would sleep with a man she had just met. No matter what he had done for her?

Her hands hastily went under the blanket and let out a sigh of relief. She was still wearing her underclothes, which was somewhat weird since she always slept in the nude.

"After the incident…" Veekeris started awkwardly, his fingers twitched, "You went into a state of shock, which is totally normal by the way, considering you just experienced a very close brush with death." he added hastily not willing to offend the woman in front of him, and took a deep breath, "When I finally managed to get you back to your room, you refused to let go of me instead you somehow managed to procure some wine and started to drink heavily. Very heavily." He intoned as he visibly shuddered like he was going through a terrible, terrible nightmare.

Ashara gulped and her face twisted in horror, she wasn't particularly a nice woman when she was drunk, she tended to be much more forward and randy when inebriated. Her family could attest to that. It was one of the reason she never drank wine or alcohol of any sorts in public. She simply didn't trust herself with it.

"What happened?" She choked through her growing terror only to watch the man in front of him blush like a child. Not even daring to meet her eyes. He looked so young she suddenly realized, barely ten and eight name days to her twenty-three. She herself was already considered to be a little bit too old to marry. But that never managed to deter her suitors or her admirers.

"Well—you were a little willful, but somehow I managed to confine you to your room, if only barely." Veekeris said proceeding to glare at her, his face still red in embarrassment, "You threatened to run around naked proclaiming that I violated you, if I didn't bend to your demands."

Ashara did a double-take, her eyes widened as her jaw went slack, "I-I don't believe it." She stammered.

"Well, Believe it!" Veekeris replied with exasperation and dare she say fondness. She didn't know why it made her heart soar so much. It had not even been a whole day since they met but she connected with him in a way she had never done, other than her now mostly departed family.

Circumstances always had a unique way of bringing two people together.

"We should get going, sun's right above us," Veekeris said, "Any longer and people might question our whereabouts."

"It's already noon!" Ashara shrieked, she never slept that long. "Get out—Get out, I need to get ready. I am so late!" She replied in a frenzied tone and started throwing anything she could get her hands on at Veekeris, making him yelp like a chicken and run towards the door in an attempt to distance himself before she threw something sharp and actually managed to hurt him.

"Wait—" Ashara bellowed stopping the blonde man on his tracks, as he looked at her nervously, "We-We need to talk," She muttered lowly, looking down at her feet and holding her blanket close to her chest, "About what happened yesterday, and what you did…" she trailed off demurely.

Veekeris frowned but then hid it with a quick smile, "That will be fine, as long as we do it in private."

Ashara nodded indulgingly, trying to alleviate his unease and apprehension. It was obvious just by the way he was fidgeting and twitching that he believed she would attack him at any moment. What a ridiculous thought!? Looking at him right now, she wondered whether this really was the same person who had jumped after her!? Was this the person who fought a giant like Mountain to save Elia Martell!? For someone who's supposedly so strong, he looked so unsure of himself and so impossibly frail …

It just hardened her resolve to help him even more. Because he was there for her during the darkest part of her life, now it was her turn to be so. She owed him that debt. And while she wasn't a Lannister, she too, repaid her debts.

* * *

The halls of the Starfall were tense, despite only being occupied by a few knights and the Martells. The tension in the atmosphere was palpable enough to be cut by a knife. Even Oberyn who was known to be boisterous to the extreme, was donning a deep frown and was constantly massaging his forehead as if it was going through a perpetual headache and spasms of paranoia. He was sweating through his doublet like a wild pig, he wasn't sure whether it was the heat of Dorne or just the stress.

His older sister, Elia Nymeros Martell was sitting right opposite to him in a cushy and padded sofa, wearing only a simple silk gown to hide her modesty while her little daughter was sitting on her lap playing with a small wooden doll and making little cooing noises. Oberyn couldn't help but smile as he watched his little niece play without a single concern. Some wouldn't even wonder that just few days ago this little child went through an ordeal which would scare even an adult for life.

"Sister, I have received some disconcerting news from King's Landing." Oberyn regarded everyone, his fingers twitching on top of his armrest. His discomfort was clear for everyone to see, and he was never really one who had any political acumen to speak off. That was all his older brother. One with the patience and wit to handle the various Lords of Westeros. If only he wasn't crippled by his gout.

Everyone waited with bated breath, none daring to interrupt him, not even his sister. However, Rhaeneys had no such compulsion, she continued to play with her doll and snuggled into her mother arms.

"Robert Baratheon has finally taken the Iron Throne," Oberyn replied with a sigh as he afforded his companions a few minutes for the news to sink in, even after Rhaegar was defeated it was hard to believe that someone other than a Targaryen was going to rule over them after their successful, three-century-long reign. "He will be crowned three months from today."

Immediately the hall was filled with murmurs and curses, Oberyn stared at Elia, hoping to evoke any kind of reaction from her but he was left disappointed, considering she didn't even blink. Instead, she started fussing over her daughter, whose eyes filled with tears the moment every adult in the room started to make noise. Rhaenys started bawling within seconds, her toy discarded as she hid herself into her mother's bosom.

"Silence." Oberyn screamed with every bit of power he commanded as a Lord.

The murmurs and curses stopped immediately. Silence reigned supreme, none want to be on the bad side of Oberyn Martell. He was known to be a very passionate man who made decisions with his heart instead of making it of sound mind. Hence, it wouldn't be a stretch for Oberyn to stab someone with his spear if he was angered.

"I am afraid that the gloomy tides aren't over," Oberyn continued slowly, his hands massaging the bridge of his nose, "The Starks have managed to lift the siege at the Storm's End, they have already sent the Tyrells packing back to their Gardens."

"What else, brother?" Elia finally asked, her face scrunched up in anxiety as she soothingly rubbed her daughter's back. Rhaenys visibly calmed under her mother's ministrations.

"It has been confirmed that Lyanna Stark has been taken in by the Stranger," Oberyn replied impassively, "She no longer lives amongst us."

Elia's face turned dark as her raven black hair shadowed her face. She had never hated a woman as much as Lyanna. Everyone believed, she was taken away by Rhaegar against her will, but she knew the truth. It was clear as day for anyone who saw the way she smiled in blind devotion when she was crowned the 'Queen of Love and Beauty.' Elia was ready to bet her soul that the woman accompanied her idiotic husband with all her free-will and then some. Ruining both her and her daughter's life. She was the reason that the late Aerys Targaryen had imprisoned both her and her daughter to be bartered as nothing more than tools in a war.

"Good riddance." Elia replied viciously, her lips turning into an ugly snarl.

The sheer hate radiating from her made everyone present recoil in surprise. Such spite was unbecoming of her. Even Oberyn's eyes widened in surprise, to see his normally kind older sister speak with such hate and disgust. Though he didn't blame her for the revulsion, Lyanna was the woman who had uprooted her life and had made her own husband insult her in front of thousands of people. It wasn't something one forgets but he couldn't help but think that Lyanna was just as much as a victim in this war as his dear sister.

"Leave us…" Oberyn said as he stared at his sister, who still had the vicious scowl marring her beautiful face. She was still beautiful, even after she had given birth twice with her frail body. His sister was always a weak creature considering she came into this world prematurely. The maesters at the time were sure that she wouldn't live the coming moon, but somehow, his sister survived, in the same way somehow she survived the pillaging of the King's Landing.

Within seconds the hall was vacated by everyone except the Martells and Rhaenys, who still refused to let go of her mother and held her in a tight grip.

"I wanted to talk about the man who accompanied you on your little journey." Oberyn continued cautiously. His sister seemed oddly protective of the man, he didn't want to offend her but somethings needed to be said. No matter what.

"What about him?" Elia asked imperiously, her posture immediately guarded.

"He's dangerous, you need to get away from him. Yesterday it didn't go unnoticed by many that you refused to let the man out of your sight."

"He's not dangerous, and I am not letting him go!" Elia screamed while her daughter whimpered at her mother's sudden outburst.

"Elia, please see reason," Oberyn pleaded, "The man killed close to two dozen heavily armored bandits yesterday. A barbarian like that has no place beside you."

"How dare you!?" Elia breathed, her chest swelled in anger and her eyes grew wild at the insult, "Do you know how much he has done for me in the last few days. Do you!?"

"Back when you all were fighting a war; I was trapped inside a hellhole. I had no one and no family. My life was colder than the deserts of Dorne at night… During the siege the Lannisters managed to find me in my chambers. I thought it was all over…" Oberyn's jaw went slack at that, he had believed that she escaped before the dreaded event. His heart broke in two when he saw his sister's devastated face. This was a nightmare…

"I would have been raped and my daughter murdered by those Lannister thugs, if Veekeris hadn't intervened, he fought that monster, The Mountain at the risk of his life and then smuggled us outside of that fallen city just because it was the right thing to do." Elia screamed, as her raven hair tumbled around, "So, he's not a _barbarian_ , and I am certainly not letting him go." She finished as she glared at her brother with as much strength as she could muster before she picked her daughter up and walked away, digging her heels to the ground.

Oberyn could only stare at his sister's retreating back, hoping she would cool her anger soon. His sister like him was quick to anger but her heart was kinder and more forgiving than his ever was. Because after knowing what happened at the King's Landing there was not a way in hell he was going to let any Lannister live. He was going to end that family even if he had to kill every damn one of their children. That, he swore on his life.

* * *

Ashara walked with a royal gait, her shoulders straight. Her heels clicked the stone cold floor of the castle as she prowled imperiously in her expensive silk gown. She had just broken her fast and was now more than ready to confront Veekeris as her stomach was full. She hadn't really bothered to eat anything yesterday because… well you didn't need food to commit suicide. So, when she woke up she was famished.

 _Where the fuck are you!?_ Ashara screamed in her mind, a scowl on her face. The castle wasn't big enough to get lost in and yet she was finding it difficult to find a single man in the same castle she literally grew up in. It nearly drove her to the end of her wits.

As she paced through the corridors, she finally arrived at the yard and gave a deep, relieved sigh. There he was leaning on to the railing with his hood covering his face _ah_ -gain. _What's with him always wearing that damn hood!? Someone ought to tear it off!_

She minded her steps, taking one at a time not making a single noise. She was so close now, a mischievous smirk lit her face. Just when she was going to commit her infamous jump scare, "—Lady Ashara, how was your breakfast?"

She yelped and backed away, "How did you know it was me!?"

"I just knew…"

She couldn't help but frown at Veekeris' befuddled expression. She was worried that this would become a habit with the blonde man. Yesterday, she had seen the impossible. A young man jumped after her, he should have been dead for all intents and purposes instead he somehow managed to not only survive the several hundred -foot drop, but also managed to save her life with nary a scratch. She was ready to bet her very soul that he could do even more.

When she was young, her mother would often tell her stories about men and women who could do magic, not the fake stuff done by mimickers but actual magic. Like casting ancient spells, the magic of the warlocks of Qarth, and about the old dragon lords of Valyria who rode on top of their flying steeds. But her mother had never ever described of someone who could walk on water or do the things which Veekeris does.

Veekeris eyes trekked towards the men who were fighting down at the yard with blunt instruments to avoid giving debilitating wounds to each other and he could only think of one thing.

 _They all are so slow._ it was as if mere kids were swinging branches for fun. There was no skill involved. It might as well have be common brawling to his eyes.

"If you so desire we can speak now." Veekeris broached the subject politely, already knowing her reasons to be here. A fighting yard was no place for a lady like her.

"Are you sure?" Ashara asked while fidgeting on her feet, "There are lots of people here, some might here us."

Veekeris shook his head and replied with a knowing smile, "None shall interrupt or peek into our conversation."

"If you say so," Ashara breathed as her purple eyes lit up, "What else can you do other than walking on water and surviving a hundred foot fall?"

Veekeris chuckled for a minute, his voice devoid of any humor, "I don't know," he finally said, "To tell the truth, I didn't even know that I could walk on water or survive a hundred foot fall. All this was as much a surprise for me as it was for you."

Ashara paled, as blood drained from her face, "Y-You mean, you didn't even know you could do all that?" She stuttered, which quickly turned into an angry scowl, "Then why in hell would you do something like that!? Jumping after me! Saving me! Are you insane!? You could have died…" she trailed off looking down at her feet. She had believed that he has only lost his memories and not his skills. Apparently that wasn't the damn case.

"I wasn't thinking, Lady Ashara," Veekeris snapped gritting his teeth, immediately stopping the dornish beauty in her tracks, "When I saw you falling down to your death…. My body, it just moved on its own. It's hard to explain…" He breathed, "I knew you were in an unimaginable amount of pain the instant I saw you welcoming us to your halls, with that dead smile of yours…. I thought your problems were your own. That I had no business interfering in them, but I simply couldn't ignore it." Veekeris looked away from her as his face gained a rather determined, steely quality.

She stared back at Veekeris for a moment before her pale cheeks heated up in an atomic blush, her entire being felt warmer than ever. She knew that Veekeris didn't mean what he said in any sort of romantic or in an intimate way but somehow that just made even more blood rush to her cheeks. Such genuine kindness was new to her. Ashara was sure that she looked like a tomato right now. She was now more pleased than ever that Veekeris was staring into the yard where men fought instead of looking at her.

"S-So is there something else you can do?" Ashara asked again, but not really caring anymore. She was simply too flustered to think clearly.

"I am good at fighting." He replied as if that single statement conveyed everything about him.

"That's not what I was asking," Ashara pouted, a little miffed, "I am talking about the magical stuff you can do."

"I am _really_ good at fighting."

"I already knew that!" Ashara exclaimed, pulling her hairs out, "People were talking all about it yesterday. Some said that you beat about a dozen bandits single handedly. While, that's impressive but my brother if he was alive, could have easily done the same."

"He might have," Veekeris replied, "But not like me."

Ashara frowned at the surety and confidence in the statement, not many people claimed to be better than the 'Star of the Morning' when it came to being a knight or learning the arts of sword dancing. Her brother was one of the best in the history of Westeros, and for the man in front of her to claim Arthur's better… Let's just say she didn't like it. Not one bit!

"Look at those two knights fighting there," Veekeris replied pointing towards the yard, "I know that the one in the right is not able to put weight on his left leg because of an injury he had few years back while the one in the left is using only his left arm to swing a sword because his right was chaffed while riding a horse. I also know that guy in the left is going to win despite his disadvantage because his movements are far more fluid and has way more experience in his craft."

"That doesn't mean—"

"Right, left, duck, again to the left, double handed movement, a lock, and then finally disarming the target."

Ashara gaped as the men in front of him did the exact same thing as Veekeris told. She watched as the man disarmed his opponent before he placed the edge of his sword on the other man's neck in a clear sign to surrender. It was like he was a seer, able to tell the future in not but a glance.

"All right, that's impressive." She admitted with a gulp.

"I wish that was the end of it," Veekeris replied, as his fingers dug into the railing making it screech to her amazement, "I know at present how many people are there in the entire castle, I know how many of them are fighters, squires, cooks and caretakers! I know everything! And I even know that I can kill every last one of them in under two minutes without any difficulty on my part." He replied with anger and frustration clear on his visage, "Yet, how can I not know my own name."

She would have called his claims preposterous, that is if she just hadn't seen him make scrap out of the metal railing he was leaning on. It had to be seen to believe the strength. How someone who looked so feminine can have such ridiculous power!? She was ready to bet that he didn't even realize what he did in his momentary loss of composure.

"I want to figure my past out but sometimes it scares me what I would find if I go down that road," Ashara didn't know why her heart broke when his face twisted into muted horror, for someone who claimed to be powerful he seemed so frangible, "When you see a person, be it a man or a woman it invokes some feelings in normal people. It might be love, hate impassiveness, adoration, dislike anything! But when I see someone my first thought is which vein I should cut so that their blood doesn't spill on me. Everything else comes later… What kind of a sick monster thinks like that?" Veekeris shivered.

She realized for the first time, how scared and unnerved her savior was. Perhaps even more so than she was during the war. She could see he was shaking, and to think yesterday he presented such a strong front, ordering her to step down from the ledge. His entire future was uncertain and every time he did something unique, it simply raised questions for which he had no answers whatsoever. Immediately, she felt sympathy for him. She felt a need to protect him. So, she did the only thing she could do to comfort him, she hugged him, her breasts pressed into his back as she tightened her grip. He stiffened at first, but she didn't let go. Not even if there was a good chance that they would be noticed by someone.

"You are not a monster," Ashara replied sternly, realizing just how wide his shoulders were and just how taller he was to her, easily about a foot of difference, "You are a little different from others but that's all right… Whatever it is we will figure it out _together_."

"… You would do that for me. Why?" Veekeris asked, surprised. His voice gentle, curious and fearful all at once, "Are you not scared of what I am? What I could do? I could kill you before you could even blink."

Ashara turned the man over, forcing him to look her in the eye as her hand gently caressed his cheek "I don't know much about you, but I know for a fact that I am not scared of you—maybe scared for you—but never of you. A monster would never help Lady Martell and her child when everyone else had abandoned them, a monster would never risk its life so selflessly to save a woman who didn't want to live in this world anymore." She sighed and continued, her eyes shining in determination, "You have your gifts for a reason, and I am ready to bet everything I have that the truth behind it is every bit as beautiful as the person you are now."

Veekeris melted into her hands like butter, feeling a sense of serenity and easiness which had eluded him since the day he had woken up in the back of a ship. Barely believing the explicit trust this woman had shown in him, he murmured, "Thanks… I always wanted to talk about this with someone. I have been trying to keep this all to myself, but with every passing day it keeps getting harder and harder." He said as his own hands started to caress hers, "There's this constant pain in my head, always niggling me in the back. But for the first time, it has calmed down." His face lit up like the sun, a gentle smile stretching ear to ear graced her, "I am glad that I met you."

For the umpteenth time, Ashara blushed crimson. It should be a crime to have such an innocent and charming smile. Looking at him one could never say that this man was a killer, she frowned at the very thought. This man, despite his flaws and his closed-off nature was a man too pure to carry that kind of burden. But then again, that might be the very reason he was bestowed with something that grave.

Her brother was like that too. Taking on burdens too heavy for his shoulders to handle. Always honorable, always knightly. Trying to do the right thing. He was one of a kind, and all it got him was an early trip to the grave.

 _Graveyards are full of indispensable men._ She was immediately reminded of the morbid saying.

Her gaze lingered on Veekeris, taking in his features, his sharp cheek bones, blonde wavy hair, thin wiry build. For a moment, she was painfully reminded of her brother. She realized that as strong as Veekeris was, he was still human, certainly he bled like one, and he could die, just like her brother. And it also didn't help that man was painfully naïve and perceptive at the same time. He was an anomaly, and she feared that she would lose him just like Arthur.

Her horror mounted at the very thought, she embraced him in another fierce hug ignoring all of his protest and general awkwardness. Her head buried into his chest. She listened to his rhythmic heartbeat to comfort herself. _It's just as warm as yesterday…._

* * *

If both of them had not lost themselves in the moment, then they would have noticed a raven haired woman with tan skin standing only few yards away, glaring furiously at both of them. Her dainty hands twisted into knuckled fists, as blood rushed her cheeks. She had a look of pure betrayal on her face, as fire danced in her charcoal black eyes.

Elia Martell had caught them.

 _ **OOoooh…. a cliffhanger~**_ **Wanted to do that at least once. I won't be taking that long for the next chapter. I will start working on it immediately. And do send me a lot of reviews and thoughts. I would love to hear all of them and needless to say that it would motivate me to release chapters faster.**

 **So read and review!**

 **Crazyrajat is out…..**


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter is beta'd by CruelRuin.**

 **Chapter - 5**

Elia stalked through the ancient halls of Starfall, her jaw clenched, murder written clear in her eyes. She couldn't believe her brother would say something so... uncouth!? He had the gall to call Veekeris, her savior, a barbarian!? Even the mere thought was preposterous! The man had yet to raise a hand on anyone out of his own volition. Every time he had taken a life, it was to ensure her and Rhaenys' safety. And her dear brother had the gall to treat him so!? Normally, something so paltry wouldn't nearly be enough to rile her up, but right now all she saw was red. _Deep breaths,_ she checked herself, _deep breaths…_ There was no point in getting worked up. She realized how hot-tempered she had always been, she was quick to anger and was capable of holding a grudge till the end of time. She certainly hadn't forgiven Doran for snitching on her mother once when she had left the castle without permission, or informing the guards, for that matter.

Her heart slowly cooled down as she felt her anger abate, _Good thoughts,_ Elia reminded herself, _happy thoughts,_ she repeated in her mind. She was cruelly taken away from her tremendous and near impossible task when she heard a tittering laugh followed by few half-suppressed chuckles. She immediately groaned, knowing what it meant. Someone had found some juicy gossip and deigned to share it with rest of the goddamned world.

She tried really hard to ignore it. She really did, but even she, the princess of Dorne, was a mere slave to her habits.

Elia tiptoed slowly towards them, not making a single noise. She pressed her right ear close to the wall, taking cover so that none would see her. She had done this countless times in the Red Keep until it became an irritating but necessary habit considering it was the only way she could gain any sort of news in King's Landing, given that she lacked spies and other resources that others with her social standing had ready access to. Yeah! Being a Westerosi Queen was not all it was cracked up to be. Doubly so considering she had to skulk around like a thief.

"Farah! Why have you called us here!?"

"Yeah! We all have jobs to do, and don't have time for your idle banter."

The said woman squealed in excitement, bouncing around totally ignoring the disgruntled and furious responses, "You won't believe what I saw yesterday!"

Elia simply raised her eyebrow, wondering what all the fuss was about. Congregated in front of her were least five women, huddled in a circle. Most of them seemed annoyed or downright disgruntled. Their clothes and accessories, coupled with the lack of any noticeable house sigils suggested that they were probably not ladies of any prominent houses. They were most probably the hand-maidens of Ashara. She liked Ashara, she was the lady-in waiting when Elia was pregnant with Rhaenys. Her beauty was appreciated and envied by every lady in the capital, she has seen even the likes of Eddard Stark and Barristan Selmy send covert glances towards her in appreciation and ardor.

Even she envied Ashara, despite her own apparent beauty she had never commanded that kind of attention from men. Ashara's beauty had a haunting, almost ethereal quality to it, which was only further enhanced by her sharp Valyrian features. Elia was sure that the woman had been the object of fantasies for many a man. It was impossible not to, when Ashara stared at someone with her alluring eyes. She was the kind of women bards wrote songs about.

"Just get on with it already, you dolt!" another women shrieked, sounding exasperated, finally prompting the unnaturally jolly woman to spread the gossip.

"Yesterday I saw Lady Ashara take a man into her chambers…" She stage-whispered. That offhanded remark served to commandeer everyone's attention, Elia's included, "She was piss-drunk, and her cheeks were flushed red..." she continued.

"That's a surprise! Lady Ashara is not one to take men to her bed so easily," A woman said, surprise evident then she hedged, "Then again she was grieving, and she must have desperately needed the comfort."

"Did you see the man? Was he one of the visiting Lords or was it the notorious Lord Oberyn Martell?" She whispered scandalously.

Elia shook her nose at that although she didn't think the idea impossible, after all, her brother was a bona-fide whoremonger. Moving from woman to woman in a heartbeat. He was once even foolish enough to sleep with Lord Edgar Yronwood's wife, and then ended up killing the said lord in a duel of honor. Almost getting himself exiled in return as a punishment from Doran. Her little brother was legitimately that stupid.

A real classy gentleman, if she ever knew one.

"I saw him," the woman replied, her eyes glazed and her expression dreamy, "His hair, dashing blonde, eyes as blue as the azure sky, always wore a somber expression like the tragic knights the bards sing about."

Elia stiffened, knowing full well who fit such a description. But she didn't quite believe it. Veekeris was the kind of person who didn't make a single untoward move towards her when she was at her most vulnerable. He would never sleep with a woman who he had just met with or talked to for that matter. He simply wasn't that kind of man!

 _But then again he is, after all, a man,_ a treacherous voice spoke from the depths of her mind, _And Ashara is beautiful…_ the voice taunted.

She shook her head to get rid of the dangerous thoughts. She trusted the man… but she still hadn't claimed him, nor did she plan to anytime soon! She wasn't ready yet! But what if he was, in fact, sleeping with Ashara!? Unprovoked, a jealous rage passed through her very being, surprising her because of the sheer intensity behind it. She had never felt anything like this.

She stalked away to meet Veekeris as her long raven hair bounced behind her, once she talked with him the entire misunderstanding would clear itself. _It's not like there aren't any other blonde and good-looking men in the castle, Ashara could've easily spent the night with any one of them,_ Elia said to herself, immediately feeling a little better.

It's true what they say, ignorance is a fortune for the unfortunate.

She strode through entire rooms and halls in search of him, getting frustrated by the minute because of her lack of results. _Where the fuck is he!?_ She thought, as she dragged herself to every known quarters of the castle. She had searched every place, even the goddamn stables, and yet she had no luck finding her ever-so-fleeting savior.

The training yard, that was the only place left to search now. So, she rushed there, when she finally arrived there she had hoped to see Veekeris training but what she saw made her jaw clench as her body warmed itself in murderous rage. The like not even Oberyn had managed out of her only few hours ago.

There stood Ashara, claiming something which didn't belong to her. Just like that Stark bitch…

A snarl slowly made itself known onto Elia's face, as a dark feeling took a hold of her heart, surprising her. _Was she feeling jealous!?_ Elia thought gritting her teeth, before she walked the other way around not looking back as the end of her gown angrily trailed behind her.

* * *

"THAT. FUCKING. BITCH!" A vase flew through the air and broke into million shards as it crashed onto the cold hard walls of Starfall. Elia's chest heaved as her gown stuck to her bodacious figure, thanks to all the sweat. She was sure that she made quite the sight. Already a considerable amount of time has passed since the incident, and her anger had still not abated. Her entire being felt so hot, like an iron poker was stabbed into her, she had never quite felt anything like this.

At the least she had the presence of mind, to not lose herself in there, she was glad for that. Because that wouldn't have gone well. The only reason she hadn't caused a scene right there and then was because Veekeris seemed just as surprised by the entire thing as she was. He wasn't even returning the gesture but still it had managed to stoke the fire in her heart like it had never before. Not even when Rhaegar crowned the 'Stark Bitch.'

She was sure that they had not done anything physical, just by the way Veekeris seemed to almost back away from any sort of contact. Thank the Sevens for that! She wasn't sure what she would've done if he had returned the gesture. Just because Veekeris didn't have any feelings for her, didn't mean Ashara didn't for him. She didn't know what happened between the woman and him within the span of a single goddamned day, but whatever it was, that scarlet woman, that _whore_ was now embracing _her_ man like her life depended on it.

She growled at the very idea. A single hug would have been no cause for worry. But she had looked her companion in the eyes. She had seen the naked adoration, desperation, and bereftness that she herself once carried for her past husband. Ashara wanted Veekeris, she needed him, just like Lyanna wanted her husband. She could see it. What was it with other women always taking what belonged to _her?_ First, the Stark and now the Dayne. She wasn't going to let that happen, not with Veekeris. She would never forgive herself if she let him go. He meant too much to her to allow him to be taken away. And only the Seven knew what a woman like Ashara would want from him!? Yeah, she was doing it for his own good! Yeah! Because she didn't want him to be used by nefarious people! That's it!

 _Tuck! Tuck!_

Her thoughts were broken the instant she heard someone repeatedly thumping the door.

"Come in!" she replied and quickly started to iron out the wrinkles on her gown.

"Sister, you look like hell." Elia growled when she heard Oberyn's voice. Just great! The one person she wanted to, no _needed_ to engage with in a pointless round of banter, she thought, sarcasm poisoning her mind.

"What are you doing here!?" Elia snapped back, "Didn't we talk already?"

Oberyn frowned, realizing that she still hadn't forgiven him for his earlier slight, "That was yesterday sister, it's already morning now." He replied with one of his eyebrow raised.

Elia's eyes widened. Was she stewing over this for so long!? She didn't even know where all the time went. Though she refused to acknowledge any of this in front of her brother.

"So, what is it?" Elia asked demurely doing a total turnaround of her mood, and doing her best to not sound threatening, but by the way her brother had backed away, it didn't seem to quite work. Did she really seem that agitated?

"I got a raven from big brother Doran," Oberyn replied, his posture wary, "He will be coming here with a contingent of soldiers in few days."

Elia's brow furrowed in surprise, she had thought it would be her making the trip to Sunspear not the other way around, "What does our brother want here?"

Oberyn gulped visibly, already knowing that this was not going to end well, "Lord Arryn sent a letter." He commenced. "To him who bears the crown of the Dornish lands, pay heed. The Targaryens have fallen, and Rhaegar's cold body lies with his forbears and successors in the royal keep. To uphold the fealties of our forebears, Lord Doran Martell of Sunspear and Lady Elia Martell are to bend the knee to Robert Baratheon, the new king, in three months. Failure to comply will result in war." He concluded. Any flecks of playfulness completely missing from his voice.

Just like he thought, Elia's eyes went stone cold, her body rigid in silent fury, "So, the Usurper finally sends his dogs to talk," she said, her posture screamed vicious, "I would have given my left eye that he would have continued this war to the very end until every last one of us ended in the pyre."

"He simply can't afford to do that, not anymore." Oberyn replied weathering his sister's fury, "The realm is bleeding, he already has too many enemies. His coffers are dry. He's desperate to bring the rest of the kingdoms into the fold. His crown will always be questioned until he doesn't manage to make peace with the rest of the realm. He has won the war, now he must win peace. At the least that's what his Hand wants…" Oberyn added as an afterthought.

She snarled, "Why are you telling me all this? I no longer care for King's Landing or that ugly throne. The Usurper can have it for all I care! All that place has ever brought me is shame and ridicule. I was a concubine in the court I was supposed to rule, and that is not a life I wish to have back."

"I understand, Dear sister," Oberyn replied placating, knowing her feelings on the matter already, "But the royal missive demands your presence in the court so that you may also give an oath in your children's stead, one that will lay to waste any claim they might make for the Iron Throne."

"That Fool!" She screamed, outraged by her older brother's blunder, "Did our brother even think for a second that it could just be another ploy by the Usurper to get rid of us?"

Oberyn flinched, not expecting such a passionate response, "We did, but killing you is not going to change a thing, sister, you are not the key to the Iron Throne, Rhaenys and Aegon are. As long as we don't take them with us, there is no reason for Robert to attack. It would be futile and would only serve to further anger Dorne more than they already have."

After a minute of staring between the siblings Oberyn spoke again, "Lord Arryn knows he can't win a war against us, not even the Targaryen managed that, even with their dragons."

Elia looked broken as she walked towards her bed and literally flopped down on it, all her strength sapped, tears flowed freely from her eyes, "You know, deep down, he's never going to stop until every last Targaryen and people related to them are dead and meet the Stranger," She murmured, with her eyes wide and fear obvious, "You know that, don't you?" she repeated, pleading desperately, hoping that both her brothers would see reason. She didn't want to go back to King's Landing, she wanted to go home to Sunspear.

"We will protect you sister," Oberyn replied sitting next to her and embracing her in a hug, as he raged inside, finally realizing the damage this war had done to her sister as she sobbed into his chest, "We won't let anything happen to you. As much as I hate Doran for making you go through this, I realize the necessity of it, even as strong as we are, we can't continue this war any longer. We have already lost uncle Lewyn to this madness, I can't bear to lose you too, sister." Oberyn continued with a melancholic sigh, "Looking over your shoulders for Robert's assassins is no way to live the rest of your life… You need to make peace, if not for your sake than for the sake of your children."

"I-I understand." Elia stuttered painfully, shivering, and to think that just few days ago she had gotten rid of that place. She sometimes wondered what she had done to deserve such a cruel hand from the fates. But she had no other option other than to just simply follow the whims of her brother. What else could she do?

"Sister, we still have months to prepare for it. For now, we are safe at Starfall." Oberyn replied, his voice choking painfully as he rubbed circles on his sister's back, hoping that he could do something about it. But Doran was right, they needed this just as much as Robert did. But they would remember, they will strike someday, just not today. He would wait in the shadows for now, docile, but poised to strike. Like a viper, like his namesake.

"Where did you send Aegon?" Oberyn asked, from the letter he had received from the capital Robert didn't have his nephew, and the question had been plaguing him for the last few days. He was glad to have his little niece back, but he couldn't help but be concerned for his nephew too. Considering the way Elia stiffened in his arms, his worries weren't unfounded.

"He is safe and sound." She finally replied even if it took her few minutes to do so. Oberyn didn't dare depress his sister even more so, and simply decided to ask about it at a later date. For now, what she needed was comfort and safety. And as her favorite brother, and the person partly responsible for her distraught mental scenario, he'd do his best to provide.

* * *

Veekeris was glad, and dare he say, untroubled for the first time since he had woken up on the ship. It had already been a week since his little 'talk' with Lady Ashara, and he was better off for it. He was glad that finally he had someone who he could share his doubts and fears with. All this time, he had always stifled his emotions, burying them in the depths of his soul, not allowing anyone even a hint that they even existed. And it had become _so fucking_ hard.

 _Lady Ashara is so kind and understanding_ , he thought, abashed. He owed her so much more than even she realized. She actually made him believe that there was a life for him outside of all this killing and mayhem. Since, all the incidents from King's Landing, he had fully believed that all he would ever be good for was fighting, that all he would ever leave in his wake would be blood, death and chaos. His life was and would be spent with sword in hand and blood smeared on his grim visage. After all, it was the only thing that came so easy to him, as easy and effortless as breathing. But she believed that there was a reason for his unknown abilities and powers, a reason more beautiful than anything or anyone could ever comprehend. And he desperately wanted to believe her.

He was broken out of his stream of thought as he felt someone intrude into his chambers. His brows furrowed and his fists tightened in reflex, it was the middle of the night. Everyone else was sleeping the night away. Who would disturb him now? Six hours after the sun had set?

"Veekeris, are you awake?" an obviously feminine voice called for him, immediately waking him from the comforting lulls of slumber. _Elia,_ He thought, his surprise evident. A princess like her had no place inside his chambers, especially so late at night. Her mere presence here could be considered scandalous. Yet here she was, standing at his door in nothing more than her almost transparent night-gown.

He quickly stood up from his bed and cringed, he would've blushed, that is, if Elia hadn't looked like hell had just run her over. Her eyes were blood-shot, dark circles beneath them painting a story of many a sleepless nights. Her hair was frizzled, and above all, she looked and felt shaken. She felt as if she would keel over due to her fear, but her stately face did not betray her. That hurt him the most, he had promised to protect her no matter what, and now she was scared out of her mind. He didn't really need to sense her emotions to know that. A stab of guilt passed through his heart, this last week he had paid no attention to this woman and now he was regretting it. He should have taken care of her, should have never let it get to this point… Something significantly bad had happened to her, and he hadn't been there for her… Somehow, that didn't sit well with him.

"Elia! Is everything fine?" Veekeris finally inquired, "You seem... _tired_." A gross understatement, if there ever was one.

Elia gave a throaty chuckle and slurred, "I must look really bad, for you to say that."

He didn't deign to reply to the obvious. And could only watch with intense fascination as the woman sauntered towards him, her hips swaying with barely-repressed intent to seduce, her sultry smile adding to that effect. Just by the way she walked, giggling and swaying, he was sure that the woman had been drinking. Drinking very heavily at that. She pushed him onto the bed with her dainty hands. Before he could even raise a small protest in return, she had already straddled him. Her doe like eyes staring into his azure ones with frightening intensity and desire, as her long raven black hair fell on his face like a curtain. Prickling him, promising him, _promising him sinful things…_

Her hands circled his chest, as her long nails sent pleasurable sensations through his entire being. His surprise mounted when the raven haired beauty started to playfully nibble his neck while her hands made short work of his doublet. _This is wrong, so wrong!_ He thought in alarm as he smelled the wine on her. He groaned, he was starting to hate drunk Dornish woman. Ashara was sweet and adorable when drunk, demanding things like a child, whereas Elia was another ball game entirely...

He had never taken a woman before. If he had, he didn't remember it in the least. But he knew one thing beyond doubt, and that was it would be a cold day in hell before he took advantage of a grieving woman under the influence. He wasn't the type of man who allowed his lust to dictate his actions. Not now! Not ever!

With his superior strength, he spun Elia around, eliciting a surprised, but not entirely unexpected squeak in return, as he pinned her beneath him in a tight grip. Now, it was him who was straddling her. His eyes roamed her entire figure as hers did the same. He took notice of the generous swell of her breasts to her wide hips, as she took in deep fluttering breaths, making her entire body do unspeakable things.

Red dusted Elia's cheek as she stared at the muscular chest and abs of Veekeris for the very first time. He looked like a figure cut out of marble, chiseled by the expert hands of the best sculptor in Essos. There wasn't a single scar on him, no blemish on his perfect body, save for a single, small white mark on his left pectoral, right above his heart. She couldn't believe that he would hide something like this under that damnable cloak. She just wanted to tear the rest of his doublet off. Her eyes lit up with an unnatural fire as her desire peaked. She struggled to get out of his grip giving everything she had in her. However, it was to no avail, the man was simply too strong for someone like her. She was still pinned down, barely making Veekeris struggle. After a few minutes of wordless flailing, she finally gave up, releasing a throaty growl, baring her fangs like a wild animal chained against its will.

Veekeris shuddered.

"Why won't you take me? Am I not desirable?" Elia asked with frustration, before her eyes gained a dark glint as her lips twisted into a sly twisted grin, "Or do you prefer someone younger than me? Someone fairer, perhaps?" She goaded him, her words, smooth like honey, made him almost miss the thinly-veiled malice behind them.

He didn't know where she was coming from, but there was something inherently wrong with this entire situation. Frankly speaking, he hadn't even thought of women since he lost his memories. He simply had way more important things to worry about than fair maidens.

Elia capitalized on his momentary lack of concentration as she somehow managed to slip from right under him, only for Veekeris to catch her again. But that didn't stop her from crashing her pouty lips to Veekeris's own. He resisted but she didn't let go until he pushed her away as gently as he could, considering the circumstances. While he held his violated lips, glaring daggers at her. Such was his shock.

She just directed a wicked smile towards him as she licked her lips salaciously, not even perturbed by his rejection for an instant, "So whose bed are you off to? Some other woman perhaps?" She asked darkly, her hair shadowing her eyes, already knowing who the said woman was, "Tell me and I will fight her for you, bare-breasted, knife-to-knife."

He balked at her bold claims, wondering whether Elia was always like this or was it just the wine that made her so randy.

Veekeris eyes steeled as his face twisted into a snarl, "That's enough!" he screamed as he shook her shoulders making Elia flinch, "That's enough! This is not like you, tell me what is wrong and maybe I can help, but not like this…" he trailed off.

"There is nothing for you to be concerned about," She replied coyly, "Though there are other ways a man can help a woman, there are ways he can comfort her, make her feel happy, cherished…" She replied longingly, as her voice turned sensual and arousing with every new syllable. It also didn't help that her fingers were still dancing around his chest.

"NO," He replied again, his voice stern and chastising as the very Septas, "Not like this."

Elia looked away from him, her eyes downcast and her lips trembling. She sniffled at first, soon tears started to pour out as she sobbed openly, her shoulders shaking and her entire body shivering like a leaf.

She didn't know why she was crying right in front of the blonde man, maybe it was because she had to go to King's Landing again, maybe it was all this frustration she had built up over the week with that 'Bitch Ashara' or maybe it was just the humiliation of being rejected by Veekeris, so strongly. But the end result was by the end of it, she was wailing like a little girl.

She just wanted to feel safe and comforted, and the only place she had received that in recent times was in the arms of her savior, her self-proclaimed knight. So, she had come to his quarters in the middle of the night. Only by consuming copious amount of alcohol was she able to get the necessary courage. Even then it took her a week to get both her mind and heart ready for it. There was so much pain and heartbreak inside her, she wanted all of it gone.

It was all such a massive failure. If anything, she cried harder.

Surprise came over her, as two warm hands gently caressed her cheeks as it turned her around, soon she was staring at the azure blue eyes of her savior. Elia couldn't help but get lost in them, she had never seen such expressive eyes. Veekeris, in general, always donned an impassive face, barely revealing anything about his state of mind. But one look at this eyes and all his intentions became clear as day. And right now, those very same eyes were filled with nothing but concern for her. _Concern for her safety._ She melted into it, relished it. Relished his attention on her. _Only her._

"Tell me Elia," She heard him say her name, melodically, caringly, "Tell me what ails you and I will do everything in my power to make it go away."

She believed him, those blue eyes of steel didn't lie. Not to her. At first, she hesitate, deigning the burden of her troubles too much to share. Just how much she was going to put on this man shoulders? He had already done so much for her. She already owed so much to him, and she hadn't even rewarded him for any of it! Any other man would have already been knighted, or given a piece of land as gratitude. He had received none of that yet. Was she really willing to put this man in even more danger? Was she!? Only shame greeted her when she knew the answer to her predicament. Yes, she was willing to go to any lengths if it meant she could keep her children safe, even if it meant using a person who had been nothing but kind and generous to her.

Days, Hours. Minutes, she didn't know how long she talked with him. But she knew by the end of it she had told him everything. Her impending trip to King's Landing, her missing son, Aegon, her fears... everything. During the entire duration of the talk, he had held her in a light embrace while she cried, raved and raged at the injustice the world had wrought against her. As he consoled her, assured her, and repeated sweet nothings in her ear until she had nothing left hidden in her heart. She had opened up to him in such a way that she might as well been have naked as the day she was born, devoid of poisonous lies and fetid deceptions. It was always so easy to talk with him, he had an aura which made you trust him despite his tough and unwelcoming exterior. It was just like the time at the inn.

Veekeris slowly pushed her away from his chest, and Elia immediately missed his warmth, "We still have three months before all this will occur, and I promise you that I will get your son back to your arms before we march towards the King's Landing. I will be there to protect you no matter what, I won't let anything happen to you." He replied, each word as if written in stone such was the determination and belief behind it.

Elia teared up, knowing just how close to impossible it was going to be to find her son, and to keep her safe in King's Landing but nevertheless, she trusted him completely. She felt a sense of safety in his presence which even Oberyn and Doran failed to provide.

"Remember, I promised to protect both you and your children," He replied, his tone steel, "And I never go back on my promises."

Elia tearfully nodded before she embraced him again, losing herself. Knowing that her children would be safe, that her family would be safe. As long as she had him everything was going to be just fine. He won't let anything happen to them.

 **Small Council, Red Keep, King's Landing.**

"Out! Out! The lot of you!" Robert Baratheon bellowed. The rest of the council could only whimper at his tremendous fury. His bearded face was twisted into an ugly snarl, and his entire six-foot-almost-seven-foot-figure of pure muscle was shaking in a mixture of madness and savagery. It was a sight mere words couldn't do justice. Such was his fury!

The king's council needed no more compulsion, before Robert could utter another angry word, whatever was left of the council had already made themselves scarce. All save for one single aging man wearing a seemingly expensive and highly embroidered robe. He stood fearless with his back-straight in front of the newly crowned king.

"Your anger is not going to change the inevitable, Robert." Jon Arryn spoke finally, his tone both stern and grim at the same time.

"I have half a mind to kill you and put your head on a fucking pike." Robert snarled, his anger had not abated even a little, "How could you even send missives about peace to the Martells without consulting me! Your King! How could you!?" He roared, hitting the table in front of him, making it creak, unable to graciously take the punishment that it was never intended to endure.

"Your anger prevents you from seeing reason," Arryn snapped back with just as much heat as his once upon a time ward, "If only you would get out of your cups you would see that we no longer have any resources to continue this war and neither does Dorne or the rest of the realm, for that matter. Don't let your madness consume you like the king you just dethroned!'"

Robert roared in agony and rage, before he lifted the table the rest of the council had just been sitting on mere moments ago. It was a testament to his massive and infamous Baratheon strength that the heavy table flew like a feather before it hit the stone walls of Red Keep, cleanly snapping into two separate pieces. Even Jon, the normally stoic man couldn't hide his surprise at the vulgar show of strength.

His eyes widened further, when Robert, the man who made the very dragons flee, the man who brought the seven kingdoms to its knees, fell down to his own as he bawled his eyes out. Screaming, crying, and cursing at the very gods.

Jon didn't know how long the man who was almost like a son to him cried like the child he once was, but he simply couldn't take this anymore. He slowly walked towards him and placed a hand on one of his shoulder, gently squeezing it.

That was enough to break Robert from his nausea, "Those dragons…" He wheezed gritting his teeth, "They took everything from me, Jon. Everything. That mad bastard sent my parents on a mad trail to find a true _valyrian_ bride for his equally mad and rapist son," Robert spat the word as if it were a curse, "I watched with my brothers as their ship drowned in the Shipbreaker's Bay in a terrible storm. Did you know the damn dragons didn't even deign to attend their funeral? Instead, they ridiculed my parents all over the realm for failing their royally assigned task. But even after all that I still had my Lyanna, the bride my parents had chosen for me. My sweet and beautiful Lyanna…" Her whispered wistfully, "And now they have taken even her from me. After all this bloodshed, I have ended up with nothing but an ugly throne. A throne which I never desired." Robert couldn't help but let out a sardonic chuckle. As if only he saw the humor in it.

Jon Arryn's heart broke progressively as Robert spoke. Everyone saw Robert as s man who drank, whored and lived his life to the fullest. But underneath all that, the man carried a lot of emotional baggage. Enough to scare any lady off who wanted more than just a good lay. However, even then, Jon consoled him, though even to him his words felt hollow, "In a month you are going to be wed to Tywin Lannister's daughter, you will find your happiness there."

Robert didn't even bother to respond to that. Everyone in the entire realm knew that there was only one woman he had loved in his entire life, a woman he went to war for, and as beautiful as Cersei was, she was not her. Instead, he spoke, his voice haunting, "The dragons are still out there, old man. Alive and breathing. Just waiting to take back their so called birthright."

"They are just children, they pose no threat to your rule."

"They are no children," Robert replied, his voice chilling, "They are nothing but dragon spawns."

Even decades after this incident, Jon Arryn would never forget the spine cold terror that passed his very being when he felt the sheer hate behind Robert's statement.

 **There you have it this chapter is done, I have already completed the next chapter however it's still going through the tough process of correcting. My beta likes to be as thorough as possible and he has already corrected the first chapter of this fic. I will be publishing the previous chapters again. I have already published the refurbished first chapter maybe you all should have a look.  
**

 **There is also a poll on who you want Naruto to be with, you can only choose one of them and it's no guarantee that he will be with her. It's only for me to know!**

 **If you like the quality of this chapter you have to thank my beta for that.**

 **Don't forget to read and review this chapter because it motivates me to write new chapters as fast as possible without sacrificing the quality.**

 **crazyrajat is out.**


	6. Chapter 6

**The chapter is beta'd by CruelRuin**

 **Chapter – 6**

 _Promises are like chains._

As Veekeris sat amidst the hubbub and general disarray of a port as big as Starfall, he couldn't help but realize that his habit of endowing his service and unique capabilities to distressed strangers was bound to get him into trouble one of these days. Case in point, his promise to Elia not only dictated that he was to keep her safe, but just to make his task more difficult he had extended the same protection to both of her children. One who had already become an important part of his life while the other had disappeared not unlike fog on the first gentle caress of the warm light of the rising Sun.

Lord Varys had done his job well. Veekeris knew the man, or knew of the man. But then again, he firmly believed that truly 'knowing' a spymaster was a boast that almost always came up empty. He had heard of the man multiple times during his forays into the darker underbelly of King's Landing, a destitute slum quite aptly christened as Flea bottom. In his search for answers, he had come across people who spoke of the great spider in hushed tones, and more often than not the threats of cloaked daggers in dark alleys. There was no doubt. Varys had done his job well, maybe a bit _too_ well.

But Veekeris was tenacious, and his determination was the stuff of legends. His intuition told him that his past self was no stranger to the acts of extortion, torture or espionage. From what he was able to glean through the dying ramblings of a would-be-assassin, the only way in or out of the city during the siege was through the port. And he himself could bear witness to the testament. He had entered the city right before the siege, and he could more than appreciate the methodic scrutiny Gold Cloaks had put every ship through at the port. If the captain of his schooner had not vouched for him, he would've surely been thrown into one of the dungeons of Blackwater instead of being able to pass freely into the Capital. An action he would forever be grateful to the old man for.

And knowing this much only pointed to one single end result. Anyone but the most redundant would be blind to the only option Varys had under his sleeves. The only ships that could escape such scrutiny from the cloaks, were ships which were manned and sailed by those sponsored by the throne. After all, who would dare to stop the mighty navy flowing under the red and black colors of the Targaryen? And the escape of Queen Rhaella Targaryen to Braavos, one of the free cities, was well known and documented as a failure on the part of the invading Baratheon force. She had been smart, knowing what was to come. And Varys was smart too, equally, if not more so. It just added up, and there was no evidence to disprove it.

But Varys hadn't become a spymaster by sheer luck. He was a man with both the required skill, and connections, that too in spades. If there was anyone who could smuggle the prince out through the front gates of King's Landing even during a mounting siege, it would be him. Plus, the castle had enough secret passageways to smuggle a full platoon of soldiers in or out with ease. He'd know, he'd used one. And if the size and distance of it was anything to go by, he could tell how paranoid the Targaryens probably were. And paranoid people would never leave themselves with a single means of escape. There had to be a dozen such passages at the very least. But did the spymaster know of them?

He had every right to be skeptical of the mere possibility of little Aegon being in Braavos, but his intuition, the voice he had come to relate more to his lost past than his complicated present, all but screamed at him to take the next ship to the iron city, if he ever wanted to fulfill his promise to Elia in this lifetime. It was warning him that a missed opportunity here could have consequences later down in the line.

It was his instinct that told him how to move in order to send the mountain out of commission, it was his instinct that had guided him on the best way to fight an entire guild of bandits and come out on top, unscathed to boot. He trusted his Instincts, they had yet to lead him astray.

The time for thought was almost over. The spider knew that in his long-reaching web, he had ensnared a scion of royalty. He understood the significance of the child as a bargaining chip, and he understood the child's birthright, his claim. If he couldn't get to the kid before Varys' cohorts, finding him later would become a nigh-impossible task, given the disjointed nature and governance of the cities beyond the seven kingdoms.

 _I can't risk that!_

His mind made, Veekeris left his seat on top of the barrel, and began a slow, contemplative walk to the merchant vessel that would serve as his ride into the great city of Braavos. His promises might be like chains, but without them, he would be naked, and alone.

And he'd rather die than be alone again.

 **Next Day**

 _That blonde nitwit! Curses on him!_

The docks hadn't changed one bit, they were still destitute, crowded, and they still stank like dead fish left to rot. But the person staring towards the Narrow Sea had changed. Whereas Veekeris came from presumably humble origins, Ashara was decidedly unused to the uncouthness of the daily lives lead by the peasantry. She kicked a rock into the bay, the sound of its inevitable splashing was dulled by general hubbub of the crowd. Oh, she was angry, but the source of her anger was definitely not her present locale. That, in itself merely made a small contribution to her already sour mood. No, that honor belonged to the blonde warrior who had left King's landing with nary a word.

She was brought out of her train of thought by the loud blaring of a trumpet, signaling yet another arrival to the port. She took a moment to scan the horizon. The port was just as beautiful as it was horrendous. The rising sun painted a wonderful picture as its rays passed through the gaps in the sails of the ships moored at the docks. All shapes and sizes were there, from the casual merchant schooner to the large galleys of the Baratheon Naval fleet. The docks truly were beautiful, as long as one could avoid the horrible smell, the gawking of the laymen, and the horrible din of a thousand or more civilians merely going along with their daily lives. It was a blessing that she was as angry as she was, in a way it prevented her from taking action against the various men who (completely disregarding her guard detail) decided to ogle her for no real reason.

The nuances of Anger were new to her. It was not an emotion she was used to showing. She was a scion of the house Dayne, and the Dayne were supposed to be perfection given form. They had no use for the uglier spectrum of emotions, and anger was possibly the ugliest of them all. But today, she felt unrestrained anger, only present as a defense mechanism against the hurt she felt inside.

 _A thousand curses on you, Veekeris! How could you just leave as you did?_

A thousand things went through her mind, but that was the one thought that stayed with her, inexplicably painful as it was, more explainable was the fact that the man who she _believed_ she had become close to over the last few months had done this. And the man had the sheer gall to simply… disappear! He didn't even deign to inform her face-to-face, instead sending her a letter than could most easily be summed up to 'Hey, I'm leaving, not telling you why or where to, or when I'll be back." It hurt her, but more so, it worried her immensely.

She knew the man was more than capable of fighting his own battles. He was a warrior without par, and some of the feats he had described, feats that Elia had borne witness to, made her believe that his abilities bordered on supernatural. No man could run that fast, or kill so many. It wasn't natural, his strength, his speed, any of it.

But with each and every one of his strengths came an equally glaring weakness. For one, his lack of memory made him easier to manipulate. Sure, he had intellect, and sure, he was powerful, but he was still gullible. And added to that, the man was loyal to a fault. He had slaughtered an entire band of bandits instead of escaping like a sane man merely because he wouldn't… no… couldn't leave the ones he had sworn to protect to their fates. He was no knight, and as such, would do anything that guaranteed the survival of the people he cared for, morality be damned. Somehow that made him very dangerous at the same time.

She raged again, and kicked another rock into the sea causing a wet plop sound. _Be safe, Veekeris…_

The knights surrounding her could only wonder whether their lady had taken a leave of her senses as she walked back imperiously to the castle with tight steps muttering curses which would make even a sailor blush in embarrassment. She never realized for a Dayne how childish her actions might have seemed to the common folks.

 **Narrow Sea**

Veekeris' small cabin did nothing to dull the steady rocking of the merchant galley he had found himself on. He was no stranger to sailing, his first memory being that of having been found on the deck of one, confused and alone. His next few months were spent learning how to operate one, and apparently, his past self was not a man of the sea. He despised living on a ship. The grueling, iterative lifestyle of sailors left much to be desired, and his free spirit could never call the restrictive confines of a ship 'home', no matter how hard he tried.

He had clued in Elia to his plan before he left, it concerned her family, after all. Her response was to provide him with every bit of coin she had on herself. It wasn't much, but for a man with Veekeris' means, it was enough maybe even generous. As long as it got him to Braavos and back, it would have to suffice. What happened after that left his heart warm especially when she has become all flustered, more like a dame of fifteen summers and not like the queen she once was. She had asked him to come back to her, safe and sound. It was heartfelt, and due to his unique sensory abilities, he could tell that she meant every word of it. He allowed himself a slight smile, for it was people like her, few as they may be, that made his confused existence all the more worthwhile.

"You care for some food and mead, boy?" A sailor asked him, annoyingly wrenching him away from his stream of thought. "Yes, please." He answered, giving the man a smile not akin to the smile Elia reserved for people that annoyed her. The person didn't seem to catch on, but deigned to give him an affirmative nod and walked away. He didn't look for further conversation, for Veekeris' smile made it aptly clear that there was none more to be had. Again, the blonde warrior had his solace, and that was all that he could as for.

' _I'm not here to make friends. I have a promise to keep, and a lady to return back to.'_

Sadly, the world had different plans for him, as the ship he was on lurched, and he found himself flat on the wooden planks that constituted the ship's frame. And if his intuition was anything to go by, the world had simply found another way to fuck with him

 **An Exile**

He had raped in his life, he had killed, and he had taken whatever he had ever wanted by force. That was the way of the Ironborn. His family had decided that the ways of the Ironborn were too banal, too uncouth for their newly acquired ambition. They wanted to be kings and princes and all they got for their ambition were the shackles of the north. Reduced to mere workers in a world that was all for their taking. And when he decided it was not what he wanted, that he respected the life of the Ironborn, what did he get? Exiled, that's what.

' _Balon, just you wait. Someday I will have my vengeance, and you will pay the iron price for your transgressions!'_

He stood with his hands on the helm, as his cloak trailed behind him in the caressing yet wild winds of the sea. Euron grinned, the feeling of cold wind hitting his face as he smelled the salt in the sea. It was one of his favorite part of his life. That is, of course, after raving, raiding and raping any place where his ship could reach. Speaking of raiding and raping, Euron's grin grew as he saw a merchant ship sailing only a few miles ahead of them through his monocle.

' _It seems like the drowned god favors us',_ He monotone's gleefully. This was going to be easy, the Narrow Sea was covered in fog, there was no way a merchant ship could see them. They would be having a feast tonight.

"All hands on the sail!" Euron thundered, "Archers, take your positions! Men, ready your axes! We are to raid."

Euron cracked a smile when his crew moved like an obedient whore, none raising any objections whatsoever. Now, that he thought about it might have been because he had every one of his crew member's tongues plucked out. Just thinking about that day made him cackle like a madman.

Everyone on the Silence could only whimper at the sight of their lunatic, half-crazy captain cackling. Euron was difficult to reason and sate when he was in one of his moods. And how could mute men reason? After all, in the land of the mute, the man with the lips was the king.

Black sails unfurled behind him embroidered with a golden kraken with ten arms which took almost all of the sail, Euron bellowed, "Full sail ahead, lads! We have a feast to crash!"

* * *

Veekeris marched onto the deck of the ship, cursing himself for his lack of awareness. Adrenaline fueled his body and he evaded bits of falling debris. As he finally appeared from below decks, it became very obvious that the ship had not run into weather difficulties. Behind the ship tailed a barge, one with a red battering ram. One that was much too familiar to simply ignore.

Sails as black as the void, adorned with a golden Kraken. A ship that was in equal parts foreboding and terrifying. More so that latter if the stories about it were to be believed. The ship was unmistakable the legendary _Silence_ , once a flagship of the Greyjoys, now reduced to a mere pirating vessel. It wasn't the ship so much as its captain that was truly terrifying. The 'Silence' was the ship of Euron Stormcrow, the man who knew the sea and its nuances better than any other sailor could so much as hope to. A ship that was driven by mute slaves, and captained by a man so deranged that he believed himself to be a descendent of the storm. A match made in hell.

And yet here they stood, blocking his way, trying to keep him from fulfilling his promise.

Veekeris jumped past a large chunk of the wreckage and ran past the debilitated caption towards the helm. He breathed a sigh of relief, seeing it in one piece. First contact had debilitated their ship, but it was still sailing. They could get away from this, as long as he could steer them out of the way of the next charge.

"Captain, I am taking the helm! You need to go and take care of the injured women and children."

The captain was too terrified to even acknowledge his presence. He was simply too catatonic. _I don't have time for this._

Veekeris immediately slapped him back to the real world, "Get the women and children to safety."

"I have to get the ship out of the range. This is my ship; I am its captain!" the bearded captain said with as much steel as he could muster.

"Just. Do. What. I. Say." Veekeris replied spelling out each syllable with heavy weight. That did the trick, the captain hauled his ass like it was on fire. It might have been because he was a coward or it might have been the promise of pain behind Veekeris' gaze, if he didn't comply.

"This is my ship now! Full sails! To the starboard."Veekeris screamed. Whatever was left of the crew immediately got to work with trepidation. Not like they had any time to object.

* * *

Euron smirked, the merchant galley was done for. Just in his first hit, he had broken one of its mast. There was no escaping for them now. He looked through his monocle and could already see that the flying debris and wood had hit some of the men and women leaving them disabled at the deck. Wasn't this glorious? Didn't this bring one's blood to boil? Why would you ever ban this, Balon? Why!? He refused to call that disgrace to the Ironborn his brother.

His gaze finally met the man on the wheel, and he almost laughed. The man at the helm looked like a boy who was barely off his mother's teat. He couldn't hold his laughter when the little golden haired shit-stain started to bark orders. This was hilarious, now the boy was pulling the sail open, did the boy really think that he could outrun him? Just how green was he?

"Archers, aim at the little man at the wheel." Euron screamed as he aimed his own bow at him as his galley took up the pace, soaring through the waves like a hungry shark.

The archers pulled back their bow, and in an instant thee sky was covered in arrows. _The boy's done,_ Euron thought. The merchant ship had no bowman, ballistae, what was the boy going to fight with?

But what he saw almost made him question the limits of human capacity, he saw as the boy caught the arrows before it could even reach him, weaving through them, none touching him. It was like he was dancing to a tune which only he could hear. The boy seemed to have eyes everywhere even at his back! To his shame it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He never knew that men could be this graceful.

Then things started to change, the boy started to throw the arrows back. He watched with abject fascination as one of the bolts skewered through one of his men's neck like a knife through paper. One after another his crew members started to meet the stranger, every time one of their own bolts were sent back at them each either aimed for the heart or neck.

Euron had half a mind to just recruit the person to his crew, a man of his skill would be very valuable during a raid or a naval fight. After all, this man was holding him off, the greatest naval commander this world has ever seen, singlehandedly at that.

But then the boy did something that made his blood boil. That cocksucker had the gall to direct an impassive gaze against him as he directed his index finger towards him and taunted him to his face. _I am being mocked by a fucking bastard!_

"Prepare the ballistae." Euron replied in silent fury as the crew gasped. This time he snarled, "Don't just stand there, get to it already you wretched cunts!"

To think he was forced to this… his blood might as well have been molten rock. His anger, palpable enough to tinge the very air in the ship with dread, making _Silence_ look all the more ominous than it was supposed to be.

Fuck recruiting, he was going to gut the blonde bastard and choke him on his own entrails as he fucked his mother bloody on the deck of his very own ship. He swore that on his life even if it was the last thing he ever did.

The two ships circled each other, staring each other down. The people from the deck of the merchant ship had already been vacated as a battle raged between the two. Both fierce and unrelenting in their goal.

* * *

Veekeris' smile fell when he saw the mad captain made his crew bring various wooden contraptions, he watched with horror as at least half a dozen bolt the size of ten-foot wooden log was fired. "AAARGH!" He twisted the wheel in his hand roughly making the ship take a sharp right turn. Most of the bolts missed the ship but one flew true. One of the bolt soared through the sky, and took the back mast of the ship out in a single blow. Sailors manning that flew like birds as they fell into the unforgiving ocean.

' _This is bad.'_ Veekeris thought his brows screwed in a knot. Some of the men just died and he hadn't even flinched. He could already see the galley nearing them with hooks and ladders ready, to board their ship to loot and pillage.

Veekeris knew that they wouldn't be able to touch him or even scratch him for that matter but there were women, old men and children in this ship. Was he fast enough to stop all of them before they did something to them? Was he? He didn't know… That was the truth of it. And it was sad. Maybe he could, maybe he couldn't but he couldn't risk all the lives on a hunch especially when he was able to feel all their emotions. Their fear, despair, pain laid bare to him. Sometimes he hated it but sometimes this very same loathed ability allowed him to feel genuine feelings from people.

 _You have your gifts for a reason, and I am willing to bet everything I have that the truth behind it is every bit as beautiful as the person you are…_

Ashara's words cut through the howling wind as Veekeris' eyes hardened.

Euron grinned the moment one of his bolts managed to hit the back of the mast. It was over for the boy, and Euron knew it. Any sailor worth his salt knew the moment the back mast was down the ships speed reduced to a crawl, there was no escape for them now. That was their only option ever, their ship wasn't meant for battle. His ballistae were meant to attack a fleet of ships instead of a single one since the accuracy of the equipment was terrible but by the drowned gods it had done the trick here.

 _It's over!_

But then his eyes met the hardened gaze of the boy, and there wasn't a single hint of fear in them. His blue eyes might well have been chips of ice, glaring at him. Normally he would see hate, fear or despair before he silenced those eyes forever but these glaciers they revealed nothing. They felt dead, detached from the happenings of the world.

His eyes widened and his nose twitched when he felt the winds change subtly, unnaturally. He felt the course of his ship change slightly, none of his crew managed to figure it out but they were not him. This was his ship! And he could feel it's very beating heart.

Then it happened, his ship lurched violently, crew members with the boarding equipment's at the edge of the galley lost their footing as they fell off the ship. Winds started to blow, as the sky darkened and the sea became violent all in one single instant.

 _A storm is coming!_ Euron grinned as his robes bellowed violently behind him, he crowed, " _I am the storm, the first storm and the last!"_

Then everything changed as the storm took a heavy turn, lightning lit up the darkened sky as the winds started howling. Euron was now nervous, he knew storms better than anyone he reveled in them. But this one was different, he could sense the magic saturating the air. For someone who had travelled to the very ends of very Valyria it was easy to recognize the prickling of supernatural power. But he had never seen something done at this scale.

He watched as the winds grew stronger, sharper. Sharper than any blades he had ever seen. The winds cut down his ships very mast as it ravaged the deck killing even more of his crew, like meat cut by valyrian steel. Euron didn't care for any of it, he just watched as the merchant ship sailed away from him faster than ever. His eyes never leaving the figure which stood at the epicenter of the storm, glowing with otherworldly power. Power to bring the world to its very knees.

Euron snarled gritting his teeth as he folded his fists until they turned white. His face was red in anger and humiliation. A boy without stubble had bested him without even a war galley. He was never going to live this down.

The blonde bastard might have escaped today but he was going to find him and then he was going to kill him for this humiliation. No matter, how special he was. There could only be one _Stormborn_ in this world…

 **Ten Days Later,**

It took close to ten days to get to the port of Braavos, and when he reached there he was bound speechless. The city was everything the King's Landing wasn't. Clean, habitable, and it wasn't permeated by the smell of shit. The architecture! Oh, the architecture was the best he had ever seen.

He was taken in by it the moment he saw the four-hundred-foot titan, standing with both of his feet over two cliffs. Shield in his hand, and its sword pointing towards the sky. It was marvelous, according to the legends he heard from his previous captain, there were times the Titan would come alive wading into the seas with fire glowing in its eyes to squash enemies of Braavos.

However, the stories which he had heard didn't do the bronze statue justice, such was its majesty, its scale, and its beauty. It truly was one of the nine wonders of the world.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice spoke beside him.

Veekeris acknowledged with a light hum, his eyes never leaving the bronze statue as the ship sailed to dock.

"I have seen that look on both the young and old when they see 'The Titan'." He replied with a nostalgic smile, "It's one of the greatest structures ever created by men that is if you don't consider the fables from the ancient Valyrian Freehold."

Veekeris could only raise one of his eyebrow in confusion.

"You haven't heard of it?" the man asked, his head tilted in surprise.

Veekeris simply shook his head.

"Valyrian Freehold, the place where dragon lords used to reside until the doom took them all." The old man breathed as he caressed his beard, "They were the best at almost everything, from forging unbreakable swords to creating giant magnificent structures. Scholars say during their time magic was prevalent, bolstering their forces and allowing them to achieve heights otherwise impossible. It was the greatest dynasty man had ever known spanning about half of the known world yet it fell along with all their knowledge, spells, and recorded history. Little is known about them now…"

"Dragon Lords as in the Targaryen's?" Curiosity took the better of Veekeris.

"Yes," Old man replied, his tone cautious and measured, "They were one of the lords but some say that the Valyrian Freehold was ruled by other two rivals, believed to be stronger than Targaryen's could ever hope to be. They ruled everything from the east to the west, about a thousand years ago."

"If they were so stronger than the Targaryen's how come they were the one to die?"

The man donning gray robes chuckled ruefully, "Because unlike other dragon clans Targaryen's managed to settle in Dragonstone before the fires consumed Valyria and they were known to be able to see far future in their dreams." Then the man replied with a smirk, "Though that didn't help them this time."

Veekeris frowned, "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Because few days back I thought all of that were just embellished fantasies created by the uneducated and illiterate," He replied as a fierce glint took his eyes, "But then I saw you bring the very nature to its knees as you neutered on of the greatest Ironborn galley with nothing but a simple merchant ship. I thought we were all dead or worse… but here I stand."

The man took a deep breath, "You are the answer to everything other maesters don't even dare question. Your mere existence challenges everything which they ever believed in."

Veekeris didn't bother to deny any of it, since that day he was worshiped and feared in equal measures by almost everyone on the ship. They would whisper amongst themselves in his presence as if he couldn't hear them. He tried to ignore all of it but it was hard with his fine-tuned senses. He was almost disturbed by the fanaticism some showered on him.

"What do you want from me?" Veekeris finally asked.

The man gave a genuine smile for the first time, "What you should be asking is what I can do for you?"

Veekeris' lips thinned as his eyes narrowed.

"Someone like you have nothing to fear from me," the man smirked, "I just wish to accompany you in your journey, wherever you go. You don't have to worry about me becoming a burden either I might be old but I can take care of myself. I can also provide you sound advice after all I am one of the most learned men in Westeros."

Veekeris looked at the man carefully from head to the toe, he was aged and his hair was already grey and had dark brown eyes. He looked grandfatherly that was the best way Veekeris could put it. And he also knew that the man wasn't lying just from his very posture, he had this learned look about him. And he wasn't one to turn down good advice.

"Why?" Veekeris finally asked.

The man gave him a side-along glance, almost melancholic, "When rest of the people cowered in the ship I was out in the deck watching you from relative safety. When I saw the bolt destroy the mast I thought we were all done for but then you summoned the very storm. I never believed in Gods but when I saw you wreathed in sapphire flames as storms engulfed you like Storm Kings of old, I almost became a believer."

Veekeris tried not be disturbed by the old man's ramblings but he was having a hard time of it instead he asked, "You certainly don't seem like a man of the cloth, are you a maester?"

"Not anymore." The man replied his tone bitter and clipped.

Veekeris didn't prod deeper, when he thought about it he needed someone who knew the world better than anyone. If this man claimed he was one of the most learned men in the known world then he could use him to find more about him, where he came from. What he was? He could use a man who knew more about the world, if he intended to travel it to find the answers.

"What's your name?" asked Veekeris.

"Qyburn, My lord." He replied.

"You were talking about Valyrian Freehold…" asked Veekeris with equal amounts trepidation and hope. Hope, that someday he would find answers there. The Valyrians spoke to magic and magic spoke to him. Qyburn could only grin at the man's curiosity.

 **There you go, done with another chapter! Finally things are becoming more interesting and there is more to come now. In a few more chapters, it will get even more action packed as soon as I am done with the necessary character building and important foreshadowing. I know it sucks but it will make future confrontation more epic than it has any right to be.**

 **I am amazed by how much attention this story has received. There is every chance that this story might hit coveted 1000 followers and it's all thanks to you guys. This is my first new chapter of this year and hopefully there will be more to come.**

 **I am working on a new Harry Potter fic so be on a lookout for that! It's going to be very unique and I need a beta for it so please if anyone wants to volunteer send me a PM.**

 **By the way the poll between Ashara and Elia is still on! So don't forget to make your choice. You can find the poll on my profile page it's at the very top.**

 **And leave long reviews, I love it when you guys do that.**

 **crazyrajat is out!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, it took some time to get the chapter done but I assure you that it would be worth it. This chapter took a lot out of me, it's my longest chapter by far about 10000 words! This chapter has been beta'd by Plagued Ambition.  
**

 **Chapter - 7**

"Are you sure this is it?" Veekeris asked frowning, from atop a building. Qyburn sat beside him in a crouch, cursing the dampness of his cloak. Even Braavos wasn't left unscathed by the _Storm of the Century_. Thunder was roaring, and wet winds were strong enough to make his cloak bellow like a banner. Thankfully, it had stopped raining but only the Seven knew how long it was going to stay this way. Considering the weather, not long…

"Of course," Qyburn grumbled, his tone condescending. "It's what I do, I experiment and I know things." His _whisperers_ ensured it. After all, he had a reputation to maintain as a learned man that was his only weapon.

Veekeris' lips thinned, his eyes roamed the modest estate beneath him, receiving the full bird's-eye view from where he was standing. There were about twenty trained soldiers along with few sell-swords guarding the red-doored building from all sides possible but considering the way they were patrolling and pacing around they seemed relaxed. _Probably because they think_ _they've_ _escaped the clutches of Usurper but they haven't escaped mine yet!_

"This will be difficult maybe we should come back later." Qyburn suggested, Veekeris didn't miss the silent pleading in his tone. _Was the old man afraid? He never showed such reluctance when he risked everything by talking to me at the ship. I could've easily killed him definitely easier than the riff-raffs down there. So what changed?_ He couldn't help but wonder.

"No, this is the perfect moment to infiltrate the mansion." Veekeris replied, shaking his head.

"Perfect moment!" Qyburn guffawed, raising his walking stick threateningly. "It's dark as death tonight but even I see the number of men down there are too many and too much for a single man to handle. I am a man of knowledge not a warrior. You will have to take arms against those men by yourself; don't expect any such help from me."

"As entertaining as the thought of you swinging a sword is," Veekeris replied, rolling his eyes as a small smile graced his face. "I am more than enough for the guys down there. I just want you to follow me, and it just so happens that we are in luck, no one will be able to see us in the cover of dark."

Qyburn's brows scrunched in abject frustration at the young man's sheer nonchalance and overconfidence, "Neither can we! And need I remind you _ah_ -gain that you will be fighting all of them _singlehandedly_."

"You have seen me bring a _storm_ ," Veekeris replied, reprimanding. "Do you really think that those idiots stand a chance against someone of my caliber?"

"Arrogance will be your first step to the grave." Qyburn's wisdom cut like a surgical knife. Unkind and Apathetic.

"It's not arrogance if you can back it up." Veekeris replied, leaping from the building as minor cracks appeared onto the stone tiles of the roof he was standing only a scant few moments ago.

Qyburn struggled to work his jaw for a minute; not quite believing what the boy had just done. He rushed towards the lad with as much strength as his old bones could muster. He was dreading to see a body crushed beyond recognition. Instead, he saw the vague silhouette of a young man rushing towards the building housing the once great dragons.

 _By the Old and New Gods!_ Qyburn cursed at the stupidity and total lack of self-preservation on the boy's part.

He should've known something sinister was afoot the instant the boy started asking about the ancient Valyrian Freeholds and Targaryen's. He should've know the boy wasn't a common traveler like him. He carried himself like a soldier on a mission. By the Old and New Gods, he should've known!

Maybe, it was his own excitement that blinded him but before he knew - A simple conversation of ancient legends turned towards the monumental happenings of recent past. He tried to lie, he tried to protect him instead all he got in return was a knife to his throat and a promise of making his life a living hell if he didn't start speaking the truth.

Qyburn shivered at the memory, he had never seen eyes so cold and dead to the world. It felt as if he was staring into the eyes of one of his own dissected corpses. For the boy's general innocuous disposition, there was a darkness which rattled Qyburn to his core.

He gave another gruff look towards the compound scrunching his eyebrows, "I am not jumping to my death."

And like a sensible person, he took the stairs.

* * *

"Take your position you fools!" Ser Willem Darry cried, "Don't just laze around when Usurper's hands can easily reach our throats!"

Gods! He hated sellswords, and he hated himself for being reduced to this. He was once the master-at-arms in the Red Keep now he was dealing with the sorts who worked only for the gold. It made him clench his teeth but he had had a duty to the true rulers of seven kingdoms and he would be damned thrice if he forsook it like the rest of the great families of Westeros had.

 _I will do my duty until the day my very bones turn to dust…_ Ser Darry thought, knowing there wasn't much life left in him anymore. His back was already hunched, and his skin now had the consistency of old leather. He had maybe a few years in him before he would meet the Stranger. So, he prayed hoping that the 'Mother' would have mercy on Queen Rhaella's soul.

Because if she didn't survive, and if he were to lose his life then he didn't trust any of these soldiers or sellswords to take care of Prince Viserys or the coming babe. He cringed visibly when another blood-curdling scream tore from the birthing chambers.

Ser Darry released a pained sigh when he peered at the sellswords who were still laughing, drinking, and whoring with nary a concern or worry; blowing through their coins like no tomorrow. All this war and strife seemed like a dream to him, the kind which happened ages ago. Yet no matter how much he wished that wasn't reality. He won't be suddenly waking up, and realize that he was in the Red Keep and had duties to tend for Prince Rhaegar and his Queen. He won't open his eyes and realize that the people closest to him weren't dead anymore.

No matter what he did, this new hell was his reality.

Ser Darry snarled, opening his mouth for a tongue-lashing which the sellswords would never forget. However, it died in his throat when all the candles in the hall died like they were never lit.

A cool gust of wind passed and utter darkness engulfed them.

The old knight gulped, barely holding back a shiver. He drew the sword out from his sheath and gave it a quick spin. His eyes dilated trying to see through the inky darkness. This wasn't an accident. There was no way this was an act of nature… It might have just been his already unsurmountable paranoia—thanks to the recent events—but it had kept him alive for this long. He won't be discarding them anytime soon.

Plates fell with a clang, men fought and _tried_ to scream for a mere moment before all were silenced abruptly. Ser Darry's fear mounted, he frantically looked around. Silence took over the hall like a hanging guillotine just waiting to roll of few heads. "Show yourself you cravens!" Darry cried, waving his sword around like a maniac in thin air. "Show yourself and face me like a warrior instead of cloaking yourself in the shadows!"

Ser Willem strutted around almost tumbling on his feet, his weariness from the last few months catching up to him. His eyes grew wide and his shoulders shook. Whoever these people were they knew how to conduct their business. He couldn't hear a single noise, neither their steps nor their breath. It's like their feet didn't touch the same creaky wooden floor he walked on, it was like they didn't breathe the same air as he did.

"Come out, damn you!" He wailed.

The night sky of Bravos lit up, a ravenous thunder roared through the great city and the very heavens screamed in agony. Ser Willem Derry watched in horrified fascination as the sight he craved so much returned for a single instant only for it to make way to darkness once again.

He wished it hadn't. Once alive dining hall was riddled with unmoving bodies. Nothing moved, even the women weren't spared. It was like they were hit by an… _army._ Fear like he had never known gripped him. He didn't fear losing his life, having already lived a long and fulfilling one but what he feared was failing his solemn duty to Queen Rhaella, and to her family. He didn't want to be amongst the countless who had already betrayed their duty and their vows.

Did he underestimate Robert? Did Robert truly hate his own distant kin so much that he would send hired swords to do the deed which he couldn't do himself?

"Come out, you no-good cunts!" Ser Derry swung his sword harder than before. "Come out and kill me! 'cause there's not a way in hell you're getting to Lady Rhaella without passing through me!"

Another deafening thunder lit up the cloudy night sky.

Ser Derry's breath hitched, it seemed as if time itself stood still. Extending mere seconds to ages. There stood his assailant in a cloak as dark as the night. Even in this blinding darkness his face was clear to the old knight.

Derry wondered how can a man who looked so _beautiful_ could inspire such fear and violence. If it could even be called that. Violence was when men lost control of their tempers and were reduced to nothing more than animals, slaves to their baser instincts. However, those azure blue eyes of his weren't lost or wild by any means. They had a sanity to them which would rattle even a veteran warrior to his core.

Those shinning blue eyes were the last things Derry saw before the figure pounced on him like a panther. His speed and power, too unreal to be human.

 _Forgive me… My Queen…._

* * *

The shrill cry of an infant rang through the small confines of the room like a beating bell.

Jon Connington palmed his head in dismay, feeling his old age weigh him down more than ever. His once fiery-red hair had turned white and his sword-skills which had won him many a tourney in his yester-years as the infamous – Griffin's Hand, had dulled beyond measure. Needless to say, he was no longer the man he once was. His age had caught up to him like the grip of a Stranger. That fact became clearer than ever when he was handed a sound defeat by Robert Baratheon in the – Battle of Bells.

Thunder roared like a voracious beast, and another shrill cry echoed through the room.

Jon slowly embraced the silver-haired babe to his chest, relieving him from his wooden crib. He rocked the babe, humming a mindless tune. Considering, how the babe's cry rose in pitch, it didn't seem to comfort the infant. And he knew he was to blame for it, he was a knight not a wet-nurse. Unfortunately, all the available ladies were tending to Queen Rhaella and her upcoming babe.

And by her screams, it wasn't going well.

"Calm down my prince," Jon spoke softly, "You are to be a king. A king doesn't have the luxury to moan or cry. He must stand steadfast, and strong so that his vassals can follow him with confidence even in death. A mere thunder shouldn't frighten you so."

The baby cried harder, and Jon released a tortured sigh. He should've known that wouldn't work. After all, the future king was nothing more than a child dependent on his mother's teats. However, despite the infant's present inadequacies he couldn't help but stare at the child longingly.

This silver-haired little dragon was _his_ Rhaegar's child, his only son. And he was Jon's only hope. Redemption was still within his sights. He had failed to save Rhaegar at Redfort. He wasn't present at the battle but that wouldn't stop it from haunting him for the rest of his life yet despite all his failures there was redemption. These old bones still had strength in them to guide little Aegon to the king he's supposed to be just like his father. He had made so many mistakes in this war and had failed so many times from the battle at the bells to allowing King's Landing to turn into an inferno while he was still the King's Hand. However, he won't fail in protecting and guiding Aegon – The First of his name, The True King.

Even after months, he wondered whether Rhaegar would've still been alive and living amongst them if he hadn't so spectacularly failed in killing the damned barbarian (Robert Baratheon), that was the source of his greatest guilt. On that day, only if his sword had dug deeper, then the Dragons would've still reigned supreme and unchallenged. If only…

But now, here they were without a penny in their hands, and their mighty navy reduced to smithereens – thanks to the thrice-damned storm. Yet despite his lamentations there was hope, as long as Aegon lived there was hope.

Another thunder roared through the sky. Aegon squirmed in Jon's hands forcing him to put the young boy back into his crib, "There you go, my prince. Nothing to be afraid of, just the same ol' thunder."

The lights went off.

"Damn," Jon cursed. "The oils must have run out."

But then Jon heard the muffled noises followed by grave silence. _Something's not right,_ he thought in trepidation. Slowly, unsheathing his sword from his hip. The hall was boisterous moment ago. But now not a pip?

The babe let out a pained gurgle.

"Quiet, my prince!" Jon spoke, his voice faint but the urgency was clear. However, such importance was lost on Aegon who continued to wail no matter the reason.

Jon's hand moved quietly to the nearby firewood, and in a quick snap he lit back the lantern and stood in front of the door with his sword raised. Waiting to slice the first person who would dare to breach prince's chamber. He would not _fail_! He could not fail! Jon's eyes hardened. He will protect Aegon, no matter what! Come what may come! Aegon was the last thing he had left of his _beloved_ Rhaegar, and he would not fail him again. If he did then he wouldn't be able to look at his Rhaegar's eyes.

Minutes passed.

The tension was palpable. Jon was sweating like a pig. The silence was so damning that he could hear his own heart beat frantically.

Then it dawned on him, it was silent. Why wasn't Aegon crying anymore!? The little boy had been nothing but a crying runt all day! Did someone kill him when his eyes were turned? He didn't dare turn back. Did he already fail Rhaegar? He didn't think he had it in him to see the lifeless eyes of Aegon. But then he heard the sweetest sound in the world – a beautiful innocent giggle of a child.

Courage filled his veins. He turned back swiftly and saw a man standing right in front of the crib, smiling gently at Aegon. He wore the common robes of a westerosi peasant but he looked _too_ good to be in them. At first glance, he seemed like a pricey Lyseian pleasure-slave but by his posture and attitude; he could only be a warrior. There wasn't a single opening in his stance, Jon felt himself sweat as his grip on the hilt tightened. His sword never felt heavier in his hands.

The blonde man directed a nonchalant look at him almost yawning in boredom, Jon gulped. Even though the man didn't radiate any aggressiveness there was this silent intimidation which put him on edge.

"Get away from the prince." Jon spoke, taking a single step forward.

Aegon giggled and extended his hands to the intruder in clear delight, begging and clapping for the man's attention which the boy had yet to do in his presence.

Jon's face darkened.

Envy.

Jon felt envy, he would never forget this twisted, dark, and empty feeling coursing through his veins. When was the last time he had felt like this…? He didn't have to think long; _Elia Martell_ , the name rang in his mind like a bell. The woman who had taken the most precious thing from him… the woman who took Rhaegar while all he could do was watch helplessly. The _woman_ who couldn't even meet Rhaegar's _needs_ , as far as Jon knew she might as well have killed him.

"Who are you?" Jon snarled. "State your business intruder, or find your life forfeit!"

Veekeris didn't spare the man a glance instead he picked the still giggling Aegon up with a gentleness which belied his very nature. One look at the babe and Veekeris knew beyond any doubt that _this_ was Elia's child. The babe might not have her tan or her lush dark hair but the eyes and cheekbones were all her.

"I've finally found you…" Veekeris muttered, rocking the babe. His relief was self-evident.

"Answer me! You no-good craven." Jon cried, desperate.

Veekeris frowned, holding Aegon tightly. "You've taken something which doesn't belong to you. I've come to reclaim him."

"Prince Aegon was entrusted to me by his father!"

"You mean by Lord Varys!" Veekeris scornfully replied, "Who went beyond, what his station allowed him. He had no right to give this child away to anyone."

"What gives you the right to take him then!?" Jon took another step, his sword gleamed in the lantern's light. Sharper than ever. "You who have broken into our sanctum like a no-good assassin. A man who lurks in the shadows like a wraith. You of all, have no place raising a child. Cease this foolishness at once! Put the babe back in his crib and I shall let you leave without a mark on your shoulders…" He finished clenching his jaw.

Aegon squirmed, only for Veekeris to rub his back gently until the boy settled.

"You're right I don't have any right to raise him…"

Jon smirked victoriously.

"but even you must agree that a child belongs with his _mother_." Veekeris finished.

Jon stiffened for a moment blinking his eyes in confusion before his face twisted in red hot rage and contempt. _That woman again!_ He screamed, _Again she tries to take something precious from me!_

* * *

Qyburn's hand fidgeted as he neared the manor. It was all the cold in the air, the storm of the century might have passed but it still had left its after-effects. Roaring thunder, wind cold enough to freeze once balls were only a few of them. Not to mention even the tarred roads of Braavos were left damp and muddy in the storm's wake. He could feel the thick mud digging into his boots soles.

Qyburn's teeth chattered when another cold wind passed. He wondered when his life had taken such a laughable turn that he of all would dare to antagonize the Royal family. Fallen they might be now, but the blood of Old Valyria still flowed through them. And the worst still, he didn't know what the foolish boy really wanted to achieve by doing all this. Was he sent here to kill the last of the dragons? Qyburn thought. That seemed like the most logical conclusion, as long as the Queen and her children were alive Robert Baratheon would only ever be a _Usurper_. That must grate a prideful man like him.

But then again who could even hope to control a monster like a Veekeris. He was like the very storm, someone who couldn't be caged or tamed by any manner. A being of pure unadulterated power that's what Veekeris was. As far as Qyburn knew about the human anatomy _and_ he knew quite a bit – there wasn't a single way he could think of which would make Veekeris seem human by any standards. It was like trying to compare a dragon to a common house lizard. Preposterous in its extreme!

The boy was unique, one of a kind.

Maybe that was the very same reason that he of all decided to follow Veekeris no matter the madness. After all a _specimen_ like him needed to be studied and researched. He couldn't wait to uncover all of his secrets. Since, the day he met Veekeris on the ship, the boy had lit a fire in him like no other. For the first time in his life, he had questions which he didn't know answers of.

The feeling of unknown was exhilarating. It was a novelty which only few maesters could claim to have experienced. The only way he could compare his joy was that of a mother who had just given birth to her first child. Pure hope and giddiness. Such strong emotion have always eluded him.

Qyburn trotted into the place, heaving through the red door expecting to see Veekeris either killed or subdued by two dozen sellswords. It was anything but that…

Qyburn chuckled, and then he threw his head back and laughed harder, "Amazing My Lord! You truly are amazing!" His voice echoed through the lifeless halls.

A pained groan broke Qyburn from his descent to lunacy, he turned towards a man who laid on the floor clutching his abdomen, while his raw throat whispered a single phrase incessantly, "Is it this man's turn to receive the _gift_?" Qyburn looked at the man surprised, he had though that all the men in the hall were dead.

Qyburn scurried towards the single man alive, and kicked him in the ribs with a might spin; rendering the poor man unconscious. Curiosity filled him, as he stared at the other lifeless bodies sprawled around the dining hall like dead fishes. _Were they not dead?_ He mused. Qyburn loitered towards one of the other body and placed two of his fingers on the side of the man's bruised neck.

 _BUMP!_

Qyburns's eyes widened, he had heard it! It was faint but it was there. And he had no doubt it was the same for the rest of them. _Such_ _skill…_ Qyburn wondered in awe. Somehow Veekeris had brought all his assailant to a near death state just by few taps on their body. Even he who was the most skilled in the arts of healing struggled to achieve such feat.

 _What secrets do you hide, My Lord?_ Qyburn smiled wide, walking through the silence of thehall, when a shrill scream tore through it like a hot knife through butter. As a healer, it didn't take him long to realize what was happening. A woman was giving birth and something hadwent horribly wrong. He rushed towards the tortured soul, as fast as his old bones allowed him too. Hoping he wasn't too late already, even after the things he had done by the end of the day he was still a healer.

* * *

"Elia Martell," Jon hissed scornfully. "Did that _dornish whore_ sent you here?"

Veekeris' eyes turned hard, and for an instant something very dangerous passed through them. "This child belongs with his mother," he said. "He needs care and guidance which you have no means to provide for. Are you not a knight loyal to the Targaryens? So, why would you keep Rhaegar's wife from their only son?" he asked heatedly.

"That is no mere child you hold boy!" Jon thundered, "That's the child who'll be the King of the Seven Kingdoms, the blood of true dragons flows through his veins. Greatness and glory has already been written in his destiny and only I'm allowed to guide him to it! Only me!" he finished.

Veekeris frowned, realizing that this was more than just about a custody of little Aegon. He could feel envy, anger, hate, love and above all regret rolling off from the man in waves. There was no point in arguing with an unreasonable man, it would be a waste of both of their time. Because no matter what happened between them there wasn't a way in hell he was leaving Elia's child with this person.

Aegon continued to tug at Veekeris' hair, giggling every now and then. Unaware of the strained circumstances.

"I'm afraid all I see is a child who's been away from his mother for far too long." Veekeris finally replied.

Something dark passed through Jon Connington, holding him in a tight grip. He scrunched his eyes. "I won't let that _weak_ woman have Rhaegar's only son. She never deserved him nor does she _deserve_ to raise Aegon now. Their marriage was a sham; a sin committed in the eyes of seven because Aerys—The Mad King—was enough of a lunatic to insult Tywin Lannister by disparaging his daughter. There was _no_ love between them. It wasn't even a _marriage_. No wonder, Rhaegar left that weak _barren_ woman the day he did. If it was me I would've kil–"

" _Shut up._ " Veekeris whispered, his voice falling flat.

For a while, Jon wondered why he was struggling so hard to breath. He tried to ignore it, but the feeling persisted. The hairs on his arms stirred; his skin prickled as if it itched on the inside. The boy's word while soft had an edge to them.

Jon finally gazed at him… and he wished he hadn't. Whatever this boy was, he wasn't human.

"W-what are you, you monster!?" Jon stammered, all his anger and rage drained from him as fear took hold, like a dear old friend. He stepped back, but that didn't seem to do a thing.

Veekeris' eyes had turned into burning red slits as thick dark angry whisker marks appeared on his previously unmarked cheeks. He glared at Jon with as much loathing as he could muster.

Jon could only cower in trepidation as dark red miasma leaked out of the boy in continuous stream. Something washed over him like a specter. A _fear_ so primal that he wanted to shove his own sword through his throat so he could end this terrible nightmare. He gazed into the boy's predatory eyes and all he saw was _death._ His sight grew black only to be replaced by the visions of his own body being mutilated in a hundred different ways.

Jon gagged barely holding back his bile. This was worse but what he saw next would forever haunt him, even in his next life. A humongous beast of nigh indescribable power made its presence known behind the boy like a phantom. Its tails, all _nine_ of them swinging hypnotically, its teeth barred—sharper than any blade, and its eyes radiated murder beyond human comprehension.

Jon involuntary stepped back, until his back hit the cold wall with a thump. He screamed but no voice came out of his throat.

"You know nothing about her nor her _strength_ ," Veekeris' slit-like eyes narrowed. "If you ever talk about her ever again, I will find you no matter where you hide, and then _end_ you. _I promise_ … I won't waste any more words on someone who can't recognize strength when it's right in front of them. You _sir_ are no _knight_."

Veekeris breathed deeply before he gave a last scornful look to the man cowering in a corner. He shook his head and felt his power recede back taking all his animalistic features along with it. _Strength,_ what did this man knew anything about it!? Sure, Elia couldn't lift a sword, nor could she kill anyone with her bare hands but that hardly made her weak.

One look at Elia and Veekeris knew what she had been through, and how powerful she was for it. Veekeris of all people knew how easily _loneliness_ could crush a person. And Elia was subjected to that nightmare since the very day she married Rhaegar and started her new life in King's Landing. She was lonely and helpless even in a sea of people. Continuously fearing for her life and her station thanks to an absent husband.

Even in such conditions, Elia managed to faithfully do her duty as a wife, and a mother. She even had the tenacity to manipulate him into rescuing Aegon; _that fact wasn't lost on him_. He knew she cared for him but she was willing to give all that up for her children. If that wasn't strength then he didn't know what the word meant.

Veekeris often had nightmares, they have been a part and parcel of his life since the day he woke up on the ship. Every now and then he would see bits and pieces of some raging battle, the images tended to be too blurry to make anything out of. But sometimes he would've have dreams of him as a young child just standing alone as people surrounded him in a circle, their eyes filled with fear and hate, talking amongst themselves while they kept him at a distance. Those dreams often woke him up with a start, gasping for breath. And Elia had gone through something in a similar vein… and that didn't sit well with him.

Elia was a lot of things; manipulative, sensual, cruel, vain but _weak_ wasn't one of them.

* * *

Jon Connington let out shuddering breath when he felt the oppressive aura recede back to whence it came. He fell on his knees like a lifeless puppet. Tears pooled down on the hard floor as his chest heaved. He couldn't believe that he was reduced to this before he had ever truly drawn his sword.

Wood creaked ominously under the monster's steps as he made its way out with one thing which could redeem him of his sins and his failures.

"Don't you dare walk away from me!?" Jon stood up only to fall again on his knees. "Don't you dare…? Who are you, huh? Who the fuck are you? I want to know the name of the man who destroyed me… I deserve that much…please." He begged.

"You deserve nothing." Veekeris answered without a hint of pity.

Jon sobbed; throat-filled cries of a man who had lost everything bounced through the chamber like a tragic symphony before it was filled with lifeless cackles and ravings as the man lost himself to his grief.

* * *

"This is bad!" Septa Miriam cried, "Her Grace is bleeding too much! If we don't stop it soon both her and her child will perish to birthing."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" Rhaella released a blood curdling scream heavenward, almost falling from her birthing table. Blood pooled between her legs, and her face went utter pale like that of a specter. She shuddered from time to time, her violet eyes going veiny red in tears. Her breath came in incessant gasps and her throat went bone dry like the hot deserts of Dorne.

"Please stay still, My Grace" Septa held her back from her shoulder, other ladies helped in the endeavor. "Push, my lady. Push." The septa muttered, feeling her Queen going cold under her hands. She was dying… Septa Miriam realized. Soon, the birthing fever would kick in and it would make Rhaella's body hotter than a furnace.

Septa looked around; all the ladies standing grimaced, the fact was not lost on them. It had been hours and yet there was no sign of the babe, not even its head was visible. Some had even started praying, hoping for a miracle. That was all which could save Rhaella and her babe from death now. Septa Miriam continued to comfort the Queen but it was to no vail she was already lost to her deliriousness.

The door clicked, and Qyburn trotted in directing one single look at the tortured visage of the dowager Queen. His eyes hardened as everyone looked startled by the intruder. "Get more towels, and some hot water." Said Qyburn.

"Who're you?" Septa Miriam asked dryly. "Are you a maes–"

"Now!" Qyburn screamed waving his stick around, "Don't just gawk at me! Bring hot towels, water, and while you're at it some tongs too. Don't make me say it again!"

The ladies scampered, with nary a care for their gown or their perfect hair. But Septa Miriam stood her ground. "Are you a maestar?" She asked again, glaring pointedly at the man who had invaded her birthing chambers.

"Is it _really_ that important now?" Qyburn replied shaking his head in a grandfatherly manner. "I am simply someone who's much more suitable to handle something like this."

Septa opened her mouth to argue but she was silenced by Rhaella's tortured moaning. "W-Will she live?" finally asked Miriam.

Qyburn peered at the pooled blood and burning red face of Queen. He could only shake his head, "She's lost too much blood and she's already suffering from a birthing fever. I'm afraid she has no hope but I can still save the child. You're lucky I'm here if I wasn't then even the child would've perished with her mother."

Septa Miriam's face twisted in dismay. She should've known this man couldn't save Rhaella but at least the child would live that was some consolation. At this point, she would take anything.

"If it's anything I will at least ease her pain as she passes from this word to thenext." Qyburn replied, sympathizing as well as he could. Septa Miriam could only nod her head absentmindedly as she massaged Rhaella's forehead with a soaked towel. As sad it was, losingwoman to birthing was a common occurrence in the world they lived in. People had learned to accept that fact a long time ago, especially women.

* * *

Hours.

Even with Qyburn's experience it took him literal hours to deliver the baby girl. Every time he thought that he had seen everything there was to see in the art of healing, something would pop up and fuck him over, right in his arse. The little baby girl he had just birthed was akin to a tumor, as much as he would be condemned by the gods for thinking in this particular vein, there wasn't a single doubt in his mind that this little girl had killed her mother. Daenerys – that's what Queen named her – literally tore through her mother's womb covered in blood like the monsters from a gleeman's tale.

It was a miracle that the Queen was still alive and breathing but only God's knew for how long. The woman had somehow soldiered on through the entire nightmare... _Most probably for her child,_ thought Qyburn. The love a mother had for her child was truly incredible. Even after the entire ordeal the little child put her through, Rhaella was still able to gaze at that little monster with _such_ love that it almost made Qyburn sick. He could only wonder how a victim could look at her murderer with such _fondness_. That's a mystery which he might never solve.

"You can come in now." Qyburn said, peering towards the thick teak door.

That's what all it took for Veekeris to stroll inside, Aegon still playfully gurgling in his arms, and doing things which babes did. Drooling, clapping and gazing rapidly at anything which caught their interest.

Veekeris gazed at Queen Rhaella and couldn't help but frown at her state. Once regal woman was reduced into a hideous ghost. Her beautiful skin looked dead and had a black tinge to it like one would find on a corpse, her once lustrous silver hair looked like weak threads just ready to fall off. This woman was at death's door and she was fully aware of it! Yet her violet eyes still shined with life, and had a fierceness to them which would make a lesser man cower in his boots.

Even while reduced to her current state… Queen Rhaella was still a _dragon_.

"My baby…" she whispered, holding Daenerys close to her chest. The babe's face scrunched in discomfort before it let out a howling cry. "Hush Daenerys, did I wake you up?" Rhaella held the babe closer, "Forgive this mother of yours for being so clumsy."

For a second, Veekeris pictured a woman with blood-red hair doing the same to a whiskered blonde child. For a minute, Veekeris felt as if someone had stabbed him with a hot poker right through his heart. The sheer breadth of loss and pain which passed through him was unbearable enough to stop him to his tracks.

"If you've anything to say to her be quick," Qyburn said, "She isn't long for this world, she's already fading. She has at best a day before her organs start failing one after another." He raised one of his eyebrow when Veekeris didn't reply, "I tried giving her the milk of poppy but she refused. She'd rather go kickin' and screamin'." He trotted off from the room in brisk steps, grumbling. And left the two alone.

Rhaella massaged the belly of her child lovingly until the babe stopped crying. Veekeris didn't interrupt her but finally he shook his head, "Lady Rhaella," he said. "I'm Veekeris and I would like some of your time."

Such an innocuous request, thought Veekeris. One easily fulfilled by a man who had plenty of it. But for a woman on death's door who'd rather spend her last moments with her only daughter, he might as well have been asking for something priceless. The female dragon didn't spare Veekeris a glance, neither did he force her instead he relieved Aegon from his hands and gently placed him in the vacant crib, and simply sat on a chair beside the woman.

None spoke for few precious minutes. Veekeris stared at Rhaella while she continued to gaze at her lovely child with a primal longing.

"Veekeris why're you here?" She finally asked, her voice prickly as a castle forged sword. "Shouldn't you be with Elia?"

"You know me?" Veekeris asked, surprised.

"No," replied Rhaella. "I know of you. You're the man who saved my daughter-in-law, if the rumors are to be believed. You're not as mysterious as you would like to think. One such as you should be more careful especially when men like Tywin Lannister have taken an interest in you. There're _whisperers_ everywhere, in every nook and cranny one can imagine." A savage grin crossed her face, "He has been searching for a blonde young man of certain stature for quite some time. Let's just say, he wasn't least bit pleased when you managed to almost kill his _dog_ and spirit away his political hostage right under his nose."

Veekeris smiled, even in death the woman was as fierce as a dragon. He couldn't help but be amazed by her tenacity. "What will you do now?" he asked.

"What can I do now?" she replied with dry wit. "Everything's out of my reach. Even as I speak I feel my eyes getting heavy."

Rhaella tried to keep her back straight but Veekeris quickly pushed her back into the bed gently, "Please don't stress yourself, my lady." He said, his voice dripping with concern.

"You know I've seen it in my _dreams,_ " Rhaella wheezed. "This is not the end for us. It's not the _end_ for us dragons. We will rise again! My little Daenerys will ride atop her beautiful dragons and take back what was once ours, raining down _Fire and Blood_ on our enemies _._ I've seen it, as clear as the day. I-I just wish t-that I would've been there to see all of it. I just wish…"

Veekeris stiffened, thinking that the woman had finally lost herself to deliriousness but then he stared at her eyes. They still had sanity to them that somehow made her little rant almost seem like a disturbing prophecy. "No." Veekeris replied, his eyes cold as glaciers. "As long as I'm alive no dragon will ever sit on the ugly throne. _Never_."

Rhaella backed away, surprised by the vitriol in his tone. But she didn't relent for long, "It's fated to happen. No one can stop it, not even the gods. What _right_ do you have to stop destiny?"

"What right did Targaryens have to conquer the seven kingdoms?" Veekeris asked, sarcasm apparent in his tone. "As I recall it was the power of you dragons which allowed you to conquer the kingdoms. It was _power_ which gave you the right, and it just so happens I have plenty of it."

"You have power? Surely, you must jest." Rhaella's lips quirked in utter amusement. "Last I recall you've no land, no men, no influence yet you claim to be powerful? Can you stop an army of the greatest soldiers single handedly? Can you defeat a dragon just with a body made of flesh? Can you!?" she asked, her tone syrupy.

" _Yes._ "

Rhaella could only balk at the surety behind that single word. There was no hesitation or self-doubt in his posture just pure weight, capable of moving the entire world. She didn't know whether it was bravery or stupidity which gave him such self-confidence. _Surely, saving a single woman from rape shouldn't boost anyone's ego that much, than again men are so simple!_

"Your family has already caused so much pain to the people I care about, no matter your intentions all you seem to be capable of is causing untold suffering for everyone around you. Every trouble which Ashara and Elia had been through can be put right on your family's feet. That's why, as long as there's life in me, I will ensure that none of your children ever get close to the Iron Throne let alone claim it." Veekeris' back was straight as a rod.

"And you think Robert Baratheon will be any better! You think that man will keep those two safe! You think he cares!" Rhaella screamed in outrage but it died in her throat, coughing blood.

"Maybe he won't," Veekeris agreed, directing a concerned glance towards the woman. "But I know for sure that dragons are not the answer to any of Westeros's problems. Everywhere I've been there's suffering and strife. You nobles had your little spat but the ones who suffered the most were the common-folks. While your war continued, farms were burnt, women were raped and entire villages were put down to the last children.

"No matter where I look the source of every trouble leads back to the _Iron Throne,_ and the people who've ruled the Seven Kingdoms for the last three centuries." Veekeris finished, shaking his head.

"Tch. Mere sheep's have no right to judge a dragon." Fire danced in Rhaella's eyes.

Veekeris gave a humorless chuckle, "It's no wonder you ended up here. All alone and helpless."

For a few seconds none spoke, Rhaella's face scrunched as if she had eaten something sour.

"What do you even hope to achieve by doing all this?" Rhaella finally asked softly, tiredness seeping into her voice. "That is if you even manage to survive an army all by your lonesome. Tell me, what motivates you so?" she demanded.

"Peace." Veekeris answered simply. "Peace and happiness for the people I love and care for. That's all I've ever wanted, and for that if I've to burn the Iron Throne to mere ashes then I will. I will seize that happiness in my hands and _never_ let it go."

Rhaella looked stunned, before she laughed hard holding her belly, and ignoring her fragile health altogether. "How could you possibly be so naïve!?" she wheezed, "Oh- Gods! I at least know now that I won't be dying unhappy because I've jester here with me." Her voice turned hard in the drop of a hat, "Listen well _boy_!" She hissed, "Life is not a song, you're nothing but a peasant know your place or you will be crushed under your ideals like a mere bug! You don't know the burdens of ruling, you don't know what it means to be a king, a ruler!"

"I know exactly what it means to be a king." Veekeris snapped, his anger shining through. "A king is someone who can accept all the hate in the world instead of love, he's someone who can accept disgrace in place of honor, and despite everything still manage to smile as bright as the sun, _until the day he dies_.

"That's what being a king means!" Veekeris clenched his jaw. "It's you who don't understand what it means to be a ruler, a _king_! The moment you wear the crown you become a beacon, an ideal which men are supposed to follow. Common folk and nobles alike look up to you. Not a single person in your family understood the grave responsibility. That's why you couldn't hold your kingdoms. It's amazing that you managed this long…"

Rhaella eyed Veekeris for the very first time, her gaze raking every inch of his being. Trying to discern every last thing about the man in front of him, like a hawk. He was a fine specimen, she decided after a minute of scrutiny. He had everything which would make him desirable in the eyes of many a noble women. Almost dreamy, in a sense. But it was those unflinching eyes and broad shoulders which captivated her so much. Those eyes were so expressive, one look at them she could say that this man while naïve in his thinking, was far from an idiot. Those eyes were forged steel, they would not bow to her ridicule or cynicism. They'd stand strong like his shoulder... strong enough to bear the weight of the world yet not bend an inch.

Rhaella's jaw struggled to work as realization dawned on her, while this man was no Targaryen or a noble for that matter but he was very much a king, not a Targaryen one but still a king. A king straight from the ballads written in a play. She would've laughed at the ridiculousness of it but she didn't dare to. She didn't know why but she believed this man in front of him despite her cynical nature.

"I'll be relieving you of Aegon," Veekeris replied breaking the impromptu silence, "I promised Elia to bring her child back to Dorne… I was wondering whether you would want the same for your children."

Rhaella blinked, then she laughed. A genuine laugh, almost like a melody broke from her quirked lips and her eyes lit up in mirth, "You don't know me yet you care for my children, you threaten me and offer salvation at the same time. You're nothing but a mere peasant in standing however you carry yourself like a _king_ … I can see why Elia is so fond of you…"

Veekeris didn't bother to dignify that with an answer. "Well,"

"I would suggest you to leave Aegon here with Connington but even I see the folly in it." Rhaella sighed biting her lips. "I'm afraid that you'll have to leave my children here. My husband made too many enemies under his rule for my children to be safe in Westeros. They will always be in constant danger, fearing knives from the shadows."

Veekeris gave her a small but respectful bow, and made his way out with Aegon when–

"You're a good man Veekeris." Rhaella replied wistfully, stopping him in his tracks. "But it's always men like you who're killed first in this _little_ game of ours. Be careful. Be _very_ careful. I don't agree with anything you've said but I think if there's anyone who has a snowball's chance in achieving such ludicrous goals then it's you." She hesitated for a moment, "You seem like a fool, someone who'll never stop chasing his dreams no matter how many times he falls or how many times he's ridiculed. If anything, I respect your tenacity… I suggest you travel every nook and cranny of Westeros for the start, it will teach you the kind of place Westeros is. Remember, if you must burn the throne to ashes you must claim it _first._ That's my last advice to you."

"I will, my lady." Veekeris breathed, slowly letting the door click behind him, "and you're wrong I am _no_ man." _I'm so much more than that._

Rhaella smiled staring into nothingness, holding her daughter close as if she would disappear any moment. That's how she spent her last moments, amongst both her children, telling stories and jests until she no longer could. She passed away into thequite night like a wind. Free and Unchained. She no longer had duties as a wife, a sister, or a mother. She closed her eyes for the last time as a gentle smile graced her lips. The first smile she ever had since the day she married Aerys Targaryen…

* * *

 **Three Days Later**

The storm of the century had finally subsided after ravaging the Narrow Sea like a ravenous beast, managing to even flood some of the parts of Braavos. Even an entire infamous merchant fleet was not shown any mercy by the tides. But the truly fascinating thing was even after the disastrous storm the entire port was back into its old hustle-bustle just after a mere three days.

Qyburn couldn't help but be amazed by Braavosi's business acumen, even a storm wasn't enough to stop them from their trade or from earning more coins. He could only wonder what a Pentoshi merchant would be capable off. After all, they were _notoriously_ shrewd when it came to their trade, be it spices or slaves they knew how to turn a profit.

Qyburn crept towards the top of a ship, his walking stick hitting repeatedly on the wooden deck in a rhythm. His eyes darted randomly in every direction until it reached the person he sought. A strapping young blonde man who seemed busy showering attention on the young child in his lap. By the way Veekeris was playing and cooing along with Aegon, Qyburn couldn't help but wonder whether this was the same man who had taken down an entire platoon of soldiers just a few days back.

"My Lord," Qyburn gave a respectful bow, "I have talked with the captain of the ship, and he said we will be sailing in a few hours."

"Hmm... I see, it seems you'll be accompanying us on this journey."

"I shall follow wherever my lord's journey takes him and beyond." Qyburn's eyes twinkled, and a small smile graced his lips.

"You can come out now."

"W-What? My lord" Qyburn asked, perplexed.

"You've been following us for quite some time now." Veekeris continued ignoring Qyburn.

"No one has been following us, my lord." Qyburn replied. "Maybe it's the weather playing tricks–"

"A man has noticed my presence." A soft voice spoke, stopping Qyburn to his tracks. He quickly turned back only to see an unassuming man with dark skin wearing a common black and white robe. Qyburn raised an eyebrow at the man's getup. He looked like a priest.

"Can this man ask since when you've noticed his presence?" the man addressed with a smile. Qyburn backed away behind Veekeris, he had never seen such a fake smile. It was faker then the one he had seen on wooden puppets.

"You've been tailing us since we went to Braavosi markets." Veekeris said gently patting Aegon who had started to squirm under his grip. "The only question remains is _why_?"

The unassuming man opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by Qyburn, "– Stranger, have you forgotten common courtesies!? You ask all these questions but you still haven't deigned us with your name!"

"This man has no name." he replied with a crooked smile.

"Well, then that makes two of us." Veekeris finally stood up on his feet, Aegon had started to pull on his golden mane but he ignored it in the favor of the man standing in front of him, "But you can call me Veekeris."

"Than you shall call this man Jaqen H'ghar." The man gave a small theatrical bow.

"Who're you?" Qyburn cried, this man was scaring him. Even with all his smile there as just something wrong about him. He made his skin prickle like thousand insects were biting him. "My lord, stay away from him!"

"Enough, _Qyburn_."

Qyburn gritted his teeth, while Veekeris' voice might have been soft the warning in them was clear. "You were there with the other sellswords weren't you?" asked Veekeris, "The one who was still conscious after I hit him. Even though it was only _barely_. Why was someone of your caliber there at the feast in the first place?"

"You still recognize me?" Jaqen asked. "Even after I wear a different visage." His curiosity was apparent.

"I recognize you clear as day, just because you changed your face doesn't mean you can hide from me. In fact, it makes it easier. You stick out like a sore thumb." Veekeris looked bemused. "I will ask again what were you doing there with other sellswords?"

"This man was there to deliver the gift of the one true god." Jaqen replied with a lop-sided smile. "The god with many faces."

Qyburn's features paled into pasty white as raw fear gripped his being the moment he heard the man speak. _Many faced God,_ This man could only be a Faceless Man, a peerless assassin capable of killing any targets given to him by his one god. Qyburn whimpered. _The only one who was conscious,_ the statement ringed in ear like an echo. The only sellsword that was conscious that night was kicked back to the land of unconsciousness by him. He had kicked a Faceless man in his _fucking face._ To say he was shitting bricks would be an understatement.

"So are you here to deliver your _gift_?" Veekeris asked, amused at the notion, realizing what the epithet meant. After all, he was a killer too.

Qyburn wanted to hit him over the head for his brashness. There were some people who you just didn't anger. He watched with bated trepidation as Jaqen gave both of them a blatant once-over. He thought there would be a fight to the death especially by the way they were staring at each other. Instead, Jaqen H'ghar threw a coin at Veekeris which he caught from the air almost yawning.

"Valar Morghulis." Said Jaqen.

Veekeris looked at the man in abject confusion, staring at the coin with the inscription of a man wearing a hood.

"Valar Dohaeris." It was Qyburn who replied, choking on his breath. Not believing what the man had just offered.

Jaqen H'ghar gave a small nod of acknowledgement at Qyburn before walking the other way. The ex-maester fell on his knees like puppet with its strings cut. Aegon giggled.

"Just what in the hell happened?" Veekeris asked, still confused as ever. Qyburn released a tortured sigh. _What fresh hell is this?_ Thought Qyburn.

* * *

 **Asshai, Essos.**

A fire burned majestically inside a dark chamber; writhing, screaming as if it were alive. The entire chamber room looked decidedly ominous especially when the light from the fire bounced from one surface to another making it look as if a reaper had descended on to the mortal plane.

Crimson eyes stared into the ritualistic fire with nary a flinch. Her ruby red lips chanted hypnotic verses, sounding sinister with every new syllable. The fire changed its color from black to blue to blood-red only to stay that way. The woman shuddered, a drawn out moan escaping her lips, "My Lord. My God, show me the truth!" She threw her head back heavenward, her silky red robe pooled down her legs like a waterfall leaving her bare to the world.

Dark whisperers in a language unknown and incomprehensible to human ears started to fill the room in an echoic hiss. Pure pleasure filled the woman's eyes, like she was on the throes of an earth-shattering orgasm. Her sinful body swayed enticingly, forcing the whispers to speak louder until the chant was loud enough to make the myrish glass window panels shatter into thousand different shards.

The red-jeweled necklace the woman was wearing shined like the sun.

Finally, the woman turned towards the fire again, her long red tresses falling onto her breast covering what little modesty she had left. But she didn't seem to care one bit of her state. Instead, she just stared into the fire. For the first time in ages she saw, for a moment the Light Lord have given her untold clarity.

A man with weaved golden hair stood with his back straight, bathed in ethereal blue flames. A raging storm surrounded him like a protective layer. His sapphire eyes shined in untold power as the ship which he stood on picked up unnatural pace. Soaring through the seas like the very kraken.

Melisandre could only watch with utter disbelief as the man's power washed over her, "Azor Ahai… I have finally found you." She said biting her lower-lips hard enough to draw blood before she licked it off salaciously.

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